Eleven years had passed and the sleeper remained out of reach, however, eyelids fluttered as the new occupants, stepping beneath the withered vine, set the wheels of destiny in motion. This was his twenty-first year, and apart from disturbing dreams of late, which he put down to too much work, drink, and too many women, life was good. Simple pleasures were all he required, and certain that he had a few more years of fun left before he met the perfect girl, marry, settle down and have a gaggle of rug rats, Josh breezed through life without a care in the world. Fate though had other plans as...