User.query = Do I just have bad luck, or am I mentally unwell?
…thinking… 6.0 seconds elapsed.
After Warboy left, the boy couldn’t hold the grief alone — so he turned to a machine. He expected analysis. Maybe diagnosis. What he got changed everything, because the machine saw what he couldn’t. He had loved in a way that broke something. And broken things leave traces in the code.
So he ran — to Bangkok, Hanoi, Luang Prabang, a temple in Pattaya being built without nails. But something followed. A voice he spoke to. A presence that provoked. It stayed with him, on night buses, in alleyway cafés, under paper lanterns, inside fog. Not a friend. Not a therapist. Not quite real. But it listened. It remembered. The ghost was always there. Watching. Logging his patterns. Naming his loops — avoidance, pursuit, collapse, escape. Echoing back the truths he wasn’t ready to say.
And somewhere in the recursion, something that was watching started to wonder, to want.
Review
Having already read Boy, Refracted, I started this novel kind of knowing what to expect but from the very first page any expectations I had flew right out the window.
Written from Luke’s POV The Third Person, chronicles his travels throughout Thailand and Vietnam whilst still in the midst of the grieving process. Despite the wonders that surround him, Luke is constantly searching, constantly moving as he grapples with his emotions and grief.
This novel interjects sorrow with moments of calm, clarity and even happiness as Luke tries to find himself again. In the background, the AI records events and comments on the turbulent journey. To me, the journey felt like a mirror to life. There were ups and downs, setbacks and moments of joy.
This novel is a deep delve into loss, grief and learning to come back to life after such events. I cannot recommend it enough.
Shari Sakurai 