Donald Breckenridge's brutal, sad memoir of his father dying. Stark and beautiful and full of our common humanity; pity, love, kindness, stubbornness, squalor and valor. The language is matter of fact, the only apparent artfulness is in the unconventional punctuation. We oscillate between donuts and staph infections, but by the genius of construction and understatement, horror, hopelessness and narrative pressure accumulate. You are fascinated, cannot turn away.