In the whispered darkness of childhood delights where thoughts and ideas came freely unhampered by the demanding insistence of the Needs, there was a twilight time. The time before night creatures roamed unguarded halls; a time where children could lay awake before the sleep came and stole their souls away to dark places. It is in this time that sad eyes would weave a tale more for herself than for the deaf ears of the others in this place she knew as an orphanage. It must be that .... because it was a place where unwanted children came and were separated from any hope of ever being loved. Here the teller told stories to no one because there were no others who listened and understood the meaning of her sounds called words .... save the listener.

For the longest time she did not know that he understood the language she spoke, until one twilight he spoke her name and asked her to change the end of her tale with "a crumb of hope ... please not a feast but just a crumb."

He called her the Lie Lack and she called him the Author. In the dimmest of hallway light they saw each other and spoke. In the brightness of day they were diminished to near invisibility and worked harder to skirt the attention of the Needs. Other folks called the creatures of the day who ran the orphanage different names, but for Author and Lie Lack they were known as the Needs. It seemed that the purpose of their life was to have needs and demand that they be filled by the children.