Prologue

I never paid much attention to Felix Bucher before that fall.

Perhaps the change was just another manifestation of how my mothers impending death left nothing the way it was supposed to be. The effect of everything I knew slipping out of my reach- rapidly and totally.

Or perhaps my sudden interest in Felix sprung from the fact that he remained the same- somewhere between likeable and dislikable; as pleasing in his blandness as coffee with too much milk.