Bram Aardsen is a self-made man. Chance has had no role in his success; years of hard work precluded luck as a factor. Yet it is a sheer accident that his life is interdicted by a young boy's. The moment is but a millisecond, the effect is irreversible.
The boy - compelling and remarkably courageous - seems destined to be Aardsen's nemesis and also his fulfillment. It just isn't apparent in that fateful instant when Bram Aardsen's high-performance automobile cripples the youngster.
Walther Habers writes with a sensibility familiar to readers of Milan Kundera and Ivan Klima. His narrative voice observes a strict neutrality. It is nonjudgemental and oddly hypnotic, perhaps because it is so unflinching, so unsentimental.
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