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How many beginnings can a story have, Daddy?””As many as you can eat, my lamb. But only one ending. Or maybe it’s the other way around: one beginning and a whole Easter basket of endings.””Papa, don’t be silly… A story has to start somewhere. And then it has to end somewhere. That’s the whole point. That’s how it is in real life.””But that’s not how it is in real life, Rinny. Real life is all beginnings. Days, weeks, children, journeys, marriages, inventions. Even a murder is the beginning of a criminal. Perhaps even a spree. Everything is prologue. Every story has a stutter. It just keeps starting and starting until you decide to shut the camera off. Half the time you don’t even realize that what you’re choosing for breakfast is the beginning of a story that won’t pan out till you’re sixty and staring at the pastry that made you a widower. No, love, in real life you can get all the way to death and never have finished one single story. Or never even get one so much as half-begun.
