Rimbaud said, "I is an other." Not long after that, he was selling GUNS. Contra Rimbaud, I, No Other admits only I. In the hallowed "tradition" of the avant-garde, these stories unseat tradition. You may call them absurd, surreal, irreal, experimental, transgressive, dark, playful, or even just funny...but DON'T call them Other!Ten offbeat Narrations & Exaltations for your delectation:a flâneur of consciousness exploring his native city, a not-guilty conscience endlessly revising the crime it can't remember, the Holy Assumption of a rogue sexbot, a man and his golem usurping Death, a timid college girl coming out of her shell to expropriate the Godhead, and more!I, No Other is a cerebral defibrillator you forgot had been implanted until it routinely—and unexpectedly—shocks you back to life. They may hurt at times, dear reader, the jolts of these agitations, but it is a vital hurt. With a cast of narrators on the brink of discovery in all its forms, I, No Other collects Yarrow Paisley's most exquisite absurdist interludes.(Nota bene for trigger-sensitive peeps: contains graphic imagery, sexual situations, and broken taboos.)