Late on night, the body of a young man is delivered to the morgue of an Italian town. The next day’s newspapers report that he was killed in a police raid, and that went by the obviously false name Carlo Nobodi. Spino, the morgue attendant on duty at the time, becomes obsessed with tracing the identity of the corpse. Why do you want to know about him? asks a local priest. Because he is dead and I’m alive, replies Spino. In this spare yet densely packed cautionary tale, Tabucchi reminds us that it is impossible to reach the edge of the horizon since it always recedes before us, but suggests that some people carry the horizon with them in their eyes.