the twin suns glistened in the hazel sky of sklar, the sweetening smell of the spring apple grass, this was a perfect photograph, everything was perfect, apart from ugly blue box, thought Edna Bolton, the oldest resident of the town nearest to where the photograph was taken. the locals took it for granted although they all knew it's story, about five or six months ago it had just appeared there. and every single day he went up one knew his name or anything else much about him. he was a lanky man, tall and skinny even though he always seemed to be eating, he dressed in a brown pinstripe suit and exhausted converses. he had an air of mystery about him and he had arrived with the box and ,legend had it, a girl.
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