Harry liked to drink green fluid. It had been that way since his eleventh birthday, when his mother had placed lime pop in front of him, and, after he drank it, the world turned green: his hands, his mother, the curtains, the door, the veranda outside, the pavement (and grass, which had been more yellow than green) and the sky.

At thirty two, Harry had not gone one day without drinking something green. He was afraid that if he stopped, the world would become normal, regular, and that he would be like everyone else.