There are no horsemen for this particular apocalypse,” writes Collin J Rae in his latest title, Sex After Death (S.A.D.), an experimental hybrid collection capturing the raw experience of life as a caregiver watching others begin the inevitable journey toward conclusion we must all, often unremarkably, face someday. Vacillating between psychedelic images of domestic life rendered grotesque and stream-of-consciousness vignettes, Rae’s work induces the unadulterated terror of mortality’s persistence and insistence, no matter how adult the audience. If death metal were a book, it would look and feel like this one.