(Peculiarity) Locuela is a detective novel that is forever interrupted by the arrival of the true mystery: in the wake of the silence that unites and separates a couple, Carlos and Elisa, in the wake of the game that isolates albino twins Alicia and Violeta from the best summer afternoons, in the wake of the fate of Neutria –a city that disappears with childhood and returns with desire– and in the wake of a Chilean literary movement that could be the latest avant-garde as well as being a great forgery, are the questions of who is writing to whom in a novel, the author or the reader. Can an intimate diary be a lover letter at the same time? Is it possible to rewrite Onetti if he rewrote Faulkner and, above all, how do you make a novel about desire and permanence without ending up writing about the mysteries of death?