The kindly face looked out from behind tinted glasses, hiding the tears of a tortured soul. He had to wear a straight-jacket of a suit, a starched shirt and a stuffy tie, all part of the uniform of those initiated into the cult - and where to capture one so young was considered an especial prize. He wanted to be just like his schoolmates out in the park playing football, chatting and just joking around. He knew he was as straight-jacketed as his suit but resolved that one day he would shed this skin of affliction and be part of normality. He abhorred the patronising elders and condescending ministerial servants. He detested the way the young men vied for prominence. He was sick and tired of going to meetings in halls with stifled air and stifling people. He was resentful of walking the streets and wearing a false mask of a face whenever the door he felt compelled to knock on opened. He just wanted to be a normal person with normal friends in a normal environment. That was his goal in life.....
Now, grown up, he has achieved his goal. He lives the way HE wants to live, has found people HE wants to asscociate with and is married to a woman who isn't judgemental when he is in a condemnatory mood. She knows what he has endured and gives him the strength he needs to erase the last vestige of a poisoned early life. He is living at last.