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Thank you mellyjelly/drumthings for this fantabulous skin=D

They say a story loses something with each telling. If that is the case, this story has lost nothing, for it’s the first time it’s been told. 

This story is one for which some people will have to suspend their disbelief. If this wasn’t happening to me, I would be one of those people. 

Many won’t struggle to believe it, though, for their minds have been opened; unlocked by whatever kind of key causes 

people to believe. Those people are either born that way or, as babies, when their minds are like little buds, they are 

nurtured until their petals slowly open and prepare for the very nature of life to feed them. As the rain falls and the sun shines, they grow, grow, grow; minds so open, they go through life aware and accepting, seeing light where 

there’s dark, seeing possibility in dead ends, tasting victory as others spit out failure, questioning when others accept. 

Just a little less jaded, a little less cynical. A little less likely to throw in the towel. Some people’s minds open later in life, through tragedy or triumph. Either thing can act as the key to unlatch and lift the lid on that know-it-all box, to 

accept the unknown, to say goodbye to pragmatism and straight lines. 

But then there are those whose minds are merely a bouquet of stalks, which bud as they learn new information – a new 

bud for a new fact – but yet they never open, never flourish. They are the people of capital letters and full stops, but never 

of question marks and ellipses ... 

Cecelia Ahern - 'The Book of Tomorrow'