Grief is bigger than a feeling. It is a place. Bianca Bagnarelli’s “Fish” unfolds in a grief inhabited by Milo, a quiet boy who’s coming to grips with the death of his parents. He has been there a while.

A scant 24 pages, “Fish” is the latest offering in Nobrow’s 17 x 23 project, a series of self-contained comics that showcase young talent. Bagnerelli finds a remarkable fullness in the format with her confident use of big quiet panels. You aren’t drawn in so much as consumed; the palette is biological, all shades of soft tissues and warm skin tones that create a palpable sense of place. This world is imbued with a languid sort of violence. As you move through the story, it becomes difficult to discern lush landscapes from human guts.

There’s room for growth in Bagnerelli’s storytelling, which feels spotty. On one hand, the story hits all the right beats, with a natural pace that belies the artist’s tight control. (She uses a new composition on nearly every page.) But there is some clunky exposition along the way, and the language itself could use more finesse. The heavy-handed imagery would have more room to breathe and resonate in a longer work.

There’s a stillness at the center of melancholy, so on some level “Fish” feels quite substantial. It leaves a large psychic footprint. Still, it’s fundamentally brief, less than 10 minutes from start to finish, even if you linger. Given the 17 x 23 project’s tight parameters, Bagnerelli’s true subject, transience, is cannily chosen. The work itself is true to life — beautiful, imperfect, and almost impossibly short.