All Write, Already!

     Oh reader, please do not comfort yourself with this missive.  Do not settle into your cozy reading spot as through you are enjoying the works of James, London, Frost or Twain. My work is not pleasure reading but serves as a warning that there are things in our world, things unseen, things that man need not know to maintain his happy place in this world.
     My tale begins as a young man, growing up in the state of Connecticut.  I was born to a prominent family.  My father was a medical doctor and general practitioner.  My mother was also from a prominent family.  As my father finished medical school at Harvard, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, my maternal grandparents died and my parents inherited their lovely home in Providence.  Things looked very well for me at the time of my birth.  I would have every advantage.  Unfortunately I brought great shame upon them when I was I was born without any fingers on my left hand.  Well, I did have a thumb and nubs where the fingers should have been.