This is about an indigenous man named M who works as a bylaw officer. He discovers a Davenport style red chesterfield. Admiring it, wondering why it is in the ditch, he then discovers a severed foot inside of it. He then proceeds to have his life radically altered as he becomes a suspect, the neighbour goes missing, his brother his up to no good, and his girlfriend is unimpressed with his choices.

It is heavily leaning into absurdism and more-or-less feels like it’s commenting on how some people—based on how it’s written, I am guessing a neurodivergent person in this particular case—require rules, regulations. In short: structure. It not simply there for no reason. Both at a governmental level and a human level. Trying to become something your not serves no purpose but perhaps your ego. And change always comes with a cost, and therefor a loss, of one kind or another.