Fragmentations is a dark, interconnected collection of short fiction that moves across speculative, psychological, and surreal modes to examine people at the moment when their sense of reality starts to break. The pieces span settings and voices, from survivors speaking to unseen gods to soldiers suspended between life and death, and from domestic betrayals to liminal landscapes. Each story stands alone but also feels like part of a larger pattern in which the familiar world tilts slightly off axis, exposing the forces that shape human fear, desire, and resilience.
Reading it, I was struck by how tightly controlled the tone is. Falconeri writes in a way that feels atmospheric without being vague, using concrete images to anchor very strange experiences. The collection’s title is more than a metaphor. Memory, identity, and even the body feel fragmented in these stories, and the book takes seriously the idea that something new can emerge from those fractures, not always in a hopeful way but often in a compelling one. Thematically, Fragmentations sits at the intersection of horror and literary fiction. It is interested in the sinister side of the human psyche, but also in existential questions about meaning, suffering, and what remains when old certainties collapse.