Madness came quietly to him one evening. While reading alone on the patio in the gloaming, his eyes straining against the dying gold-magenta of day’s end, madness rested a warm hand on his shoulder. He lost his place on the page and, despite rereading the lines countless times, his ability to make sense of it was gone. He set the book down gently and rose with quiet surrender as madness beckoned him through the dimming hallway to the bathroom door. From the doorway, staring into the dark mirror, he lost himself in the unfamiliar face of madness as night fell.