I was driving through the other side of town when I spied one of those venerable shops. I parked my car and entered the old store. I didn’t ask the proprietor for help, reluctant to make too straight a line toward disappointment. The regularity of continually failing to discover the object of my quest led me to pretend I might be shopping for any good book which caught my eye. I began wandering the maze of shelves, looking high and low for some book which might be interesting, perhaps even the one that I sought..
Lord Malinov, Flowers of Malinov