nce upon a nutmeg in a land far far away. Not too far, just far enough for specialty news papers to be found in back street news agents, there was you. What would happen you did not necessarily know, but something told you that it must. The possibilities seemed endless, and as you pondered the countless actions and consequences that seemed both plausible and not they seemed to spread out before you like a gargantuan lattice of pastry atop some boundlessly deep apple filling steaming with prosperity and opportunity.

Although the shear enormous amplitude of the countless reckonings that could begin at this very time shook you to the core, you felt somewhat that you had procrastinated enough and the time was probably right make your first move into the future. For better or for worse you suspected that you had decided that the story of you must go on, and must be told.