It was fog crippled autumn when his mothers cramps became unbearable. Crimson red and brilliant orange leaves crunched beneath his fathers speeding car. Diving to the hospital, praying - their Smart car does not get swamped with sweet water, such was the pedestrian seat - the wet promise of life. Bellowing until the shrieking windows caved in, his raw-scented mother poured red on baby-blue sheets. His cranky - speeding- father, betrays his personality he holds so high: by clutching on to Mariams mary hand. The doctors hands lost in the sea of red, turned to ask the cold nurse - have you cum yet? An eerie air of confusion - chokes the four corner room to a deaf-mans hearing, a deafening silence; "e, e"croaked the infant, before heaven touched his lungs to astonishing legibility...'I'm Cumming!' was his first goo goo cry - his father stood a proud man, his mother knicknamed him 'dont forget the S at the end' for the rest of his life. Haunted by this mispelling, the skill of writing was sympathized upon him by the trees Spiritual ghosts.