How am I doing?

Not every story has a beginning. And even fewer have an ending.

In a time that the land of Middle-earth was sung into existence. A time when even the Dragon Smaug was but a little smoker. Even the Shire had no name and no Hobbits. The great Gandalf had yet to undertake his mantle of wizard and even the elves were not old enough to be wise.

There was a land that brought great sorrow. A civilization that monetized and popularised all things dark while preaching all things light. It's to this land lived a man of no name, no ring, and no fame. Not far from the towers. Just in the shadow of Mordor. In the walls of his own Shire he dwelled.

If you wake to find yourself in the midst of Orcs. If you venture to find yourself in the grip of a Balrog. If you chance to find yourself in a spider's web. You would still fail to understand this Stuart of Gondor.

It's rumored that he has lived through worse. Maybe, maybe not but rumors do not a fellowship make. Nor Lord forsake. Or journey on a boat to the west take.

When once asked, "How do you feel?" It was rumored that the wale that issued forth through his mouth turned the hair of the inquisitive, white. That it was even heard by the Giant Hawks only just then learning to fly. That even the great eye of Saruman which at the time resided still in his skull was forced to weep. It was found at that time that even this sound could turn a Troll to stone.

And when the air filled with a thousand wales of pain finally subsided. The only word that could be understood from his mouth was,

  "Ouch!"

~~~~~~

And that children is the best description of how I'm doing.