👥 Fractured
Fractured is the signature series of Unwell, featuring a collection of slim, illustrated books that blend surreal portraiture with poetic narrative fragments. Each volume provides an intimate character study conveyed through haunting portraits, experimental text, and fractured narrative forms. With no fixed genre but a clear emotional center, these books blur the boundaries between poetry, prose, and visual storytelling.The series explores characters unraveling at the edge of memory, identity, or perception. Through poetic monologues, malfunctioning checklists, broken dialogues, and dreamlike fragments, each book reveals a mind in crisis—sometimes comic, sometimes devastating, always deeply … human-ish. The format is simple but precise: ten chapters, attendant images, and one persistent emotional fissure running through it all.
The first book, Norman, introduces a man who insists he is fine, despite all evidence to the contrary. His pear-shaped head, obsessive checklists, and cracked sense of time set the tone for what’s to come. Future titles, including Agnes, Wilbur, and Ona, will continue the tradition, each figure carrying the weight of a world that’s already fallen apart.
In the second book in the Fractured series, we meet Agnes, a woman with one oversized eye and too many screens. Her world is grayscale, her sweater always mustard, and her memories increasingly unstable.
Told through poetic fragments, technical logs, surveillance transcripts, and unsettling reflections, Agnes unravels in quiet spirals—where time loops, mirrors lie, and the act of seeing becomes its own kind of breakdown.
With haunting illustrations and surreal humor, Agnes explores surveillance, identity loss, and the thin boundary between observer and observed. For readers who liked Norman, this book returns to the unsettling emotional terrain of fractured minds and post-normal lives—one unsettling blink at a time.
Told through poetic fragments, technical logs, surveillance transcripts, and unsettling reflections, Agnes unravels in quiet spirals—where time loops, mirrors lie, and the act of seeing becomes its own kind of breakdown.
With haunting illustrations and surreal humor, Agnes explores surveillance, identity loss, and the thin boundary between observer and observed. For readers who liked Norman, this book returns to the unsettling emotional terrain of fractured minds and post-normal lives—one unsettling blink at a time.
Wilbur hears everything. Not just voices, but vibrations—grief, gossip, guilt—traveling through walls, wires, even weather. Brass-like horns protrude from either side of his head, pulsing faintly with a blue glow. He has no mouth. He never speaks. And he cannot shut it all out.
In this third Fractured book, poetic fragments, surreal lists, and distorted memories reveal the quiet unraveling of a man overstimulated by the noise of a broken world.
Darkly humorous and hauntingly strange, Wilbur is a portrait of hyper-awareness turned burden, of a life shaped by listening without release.
In this third Fractured book, poetic fragments, surreal lists, and distorted memories reveal the quiet unraveling of a man overstimulated by the noise of a broken world.
Darkly humorous and hauntingly strange, Wilbur is a portrait of hyper-awareness turned burden, of a life shaped by listening without release.
