[Image: The Beginning
(gouache on paper, 15×21 cm, 2010), by Kathryn Brimblecombe-Fox]

(Have you already read the Introduction? If not, please jog on over there now.
This will still be here waiting for you.)

On the cold August morning on which Gabe Naude heard his doorbell ring for the last time, it rang when he had just entered the darkroom. Gabe sighed, loudly and melodramatically — as though whoever stood on his doorstep might hear, and reconsider the interruption. He placed on the heavy table the little open metal drum full of sodium thiosulphate fixing agent, which sloshed a bit over the lip, onto the table and floor. He sighed again, and went upstairs and to the front door.

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