There is a story I want to tell. Please hear it. It fills me with excitement every time I am reminded of the thought of telling it. The irony is that it isn’t yet born. It’s not even a foetus. It is just there. And I know it. I can feel it. Can you, as I say this, feel it? Are my words expressive enough to make you feel the existence of that which is still unborn, does it make you believe that it will happen? Can you hope for it? Do you think it is there?