The Wishing Tree. Part One: Gnarled, knotted, with twisted limbs, her branches over up and out, in several arm like coils, no longer able to bear leaves or buds in the summer time, brittle if touched she may crumble and fall if pushed too suddenly by the strong coastal winds. Her position among the bulls in the field, 20 feet from the iron fence on the secluded roadway  at Glasserton, outside the Town of Whithorn, Wigtownshire, meant that those who passed by who were out for the day or walking dogs along this dry and level dirt road sometimes hardly even knew that she was there, some of course did, those who had imagined her to a mystical entity due to he unusual demeanour may have thought wishes possible, but that sort of thing is only a fairy tail. The last who had made his wish was about to receive it, she could not understand why this young man had wished for such a thing.  " I am here to serve!" her mantra ran through her structure. The time...