Stella stood there and watched the retreating figure until she snapped out of it, bolted at the door and closed it. Sagging at the door she looked at the kitchen just in time to watch Tesla make off with a slice of prosciutto like a bandit.<br/><br/>She shook her head and decided that one thirty in the afternoon was perfect for a glass of wine with her sandwich. This day had been too bizarre. She hoped Anton didn’t have a terrible impression of her.<br/><br/>She took her sandwich and wine to the window seat and looked out at the oak tree and toasted it. To new neighbors she said quietly and ate the sandwich. Tesla was asleep again, what did he feed him? She wondered.<br/><br/>After her meal, feeling uncharacteristically agitated and out of sorts Stella all but attacked her piano. She had to get her head in the game.<br/><br/><div class="bbMediaWrapper">
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