"I have NO PATIENCE for dinosaurs"

ANGEL HEART

Where do you start with a story that has no real beginning but a deciding end? As with most stories of this type, it begins with a man and a woman, for without these two, the third part couldn't happen, and it is the child we are most concerned about.

You see, dear reader, as I am sure you are aware, a stories path twists and turns to ages past. Many parts it will be made of, stone or brick, wood and twig, even dirt and water, but a path will be there, nonetheless.

Some parts, as you will see, are well trodden, but venture away from the hustle and bustle and you will find mere trails, maybe only taken by a rabbit or fox, but paths even so.

So, again, I say, dear reader, where on our path would you like me to begin, because I have seen where all men tread...

Very well, we will begin our journey there...

As with all, a man was born. Nature dealt her hand, as did my lord and the rest was to the parents, to mould and shape as they saw fit, though many don't see what they have or what is required, as sometimes differences lay hidden but need attending nevertheless.

He grew, experiencing hardship, though was hard working and like all mankind, made errors on the way and errors have to be dealt with, otherwise they grow like briar patches around the soul, choking and stifling healthy plants and scratching the skin of innocent travellers.

The complications of man's life spread quickly, branching out like the bough of a tree, one becomes two, two becomes four and so on, and again like the briar, if the buds aren't nipped, they will surely grow.

Not far from where the man came into the world, so too did a woman. She too did not experience the ease of comfort or unwant, but her life was easier in some ways but harder than others, losing her parents at a young age left her without the valued direction that children need.

She too grew with hidden woes, pushed into the depths of her being, while striving to be a better soul, quietly driven by the love of her God, that had been sometimes taught by wrongdoers or peoples whose own lives had been corrupted by injury and possibly failed to grasp the true meanings. Lies and deceits nurture different plants as do loss and want, though all look the same, but behind the mask... This is the way. Though it is to the forecomers we turn to right our wrongs.

As each raised in height, their routes crossed and merged, spiralling together, creating a unison and bond out of which our story truly begins...

The little shack had laid abandoned for many a year when it was come upon by the couple seeking shelter from their woes. Not down hearted and well intention in spirit, they fastened to their new found abound and set to, making it their own.

Life was hard, but hardship was not a stranger, so they delved and span, tilled and chopped, putting their vigour into the clay that lay around, refreshing the earth so as to harvest its fruits.

As they worked, they put their pasts behind them, too hard to bear or too shameful to recount, and forged forward with new strength, determined not to err again or be succumbed by the follies of their youth.

The two years went by with the clouds and seasons, filling the store and fastening their hold, more and more resolute in their determination, until the day of announcement came.

"Father." Said she.

"What, I?" said he.

"Yes, thee." Said she.

And so, it was. A child was born after the summer months had gone and winter claws had not yet clasped on with its icy grip, though distance was in the mother's heart as she knew not how to care for one so reliant. Feed and bathing were the trouble not, more the warmth and tenderness that lay missing from her own bosom, though reveal it she did not, as her companion, at first, put their child on the highest pedestal, as he had done to her when they first met.