Falling out of Time / David Grossman 193 pp.

This is a work that can't be classified: part poem, part drama, part surreal prose, it is a meditation on death, and specifically the death of children.  (So whatever it is, I hope it isn't autobiographical.)  But I wonder.  We first meet The Walking Man and his wife.  The Walking Man circles the town, night and day, trying to get 'there,' the place where his son is.  "There is no there," says his wife, but he goes anyway.  He meets the Centaur, half man, half desk, in a house piled with children's furniture and toys.  There are the Town Chronicler, the Duke, and several others.  They are all circling, moving, trying to get 'there.'  Exquisitely painful and beautiful reading.
P.S.  I wish I hadn't done it, but after publishing the above, I looked.  Grossman's son was killed in '06 in southern Lebanon when his tank was struck by a rocket.