This is a novel of grief: but bear with me, as it's so much more than that. Isaac is 29 years old. When we first meet him, he emerges from a black-out to find himself teetering on the edge of a bridge in the rainy night, his car dinging with its lights on, doors open, a sense of outrage hovering nearby. Suddenly filled with a primeval urge to live, he howls into the night. Something howls back: a sound neither animal nor human, but filled with loneliness.

This is how Isaac meets the egg. Later, at home, Egg (as Isaac imaginatively names it) will turn out to be brighter, fluffier and more mobile than an actual egg. Egg becomes Isaac's companion, as they tentatively explore the stages of grief together.

Through Egg, we learn the causes of Isaac's distress; his black-outs continue, and Egg observes with interest, trying to figure out where Isaac goes when he's not at home; what's in the office; what's behind the locked room on the top floor. The story plays out delicately, and its plot is best left for the reader to discover alongside detective Egg as they try to care for Isaac, feeding him some semblance of beans on toast for every meal and watching old movies together.

This story is incredible. A tale so beautiful and funny and heart-warming, yet filled with the most evocative descriptions of grief I've ever read. It takes some authorly skill to have a character so bereaved that their mind breaks apart in the same chapter as a hilarious scene of a man and a creature playing baseball with the contents of the fridge.

Isaac and the Egg is an unforgettable tale of a young man dealing with extraordinary life events in the most creative way his brain can fathom. It's a testament to hope and resilience, and the beauty of a young mind. It contains lessons for us all.