CHAPTER ONE – STREET CORNER CONVERSATION

Edward woke up one fine morning and stood in front of the gaping hole in the attic. It was still pretty dark outside and the street lights were just beginning to turn off. Edward walked downstairs and into the inventor's laboratory. He walked around the machines and stared at them and then at himself, realizing that he was as well a machine of sorts, except much different, he was special. Though he was part of them and they were part of him. He kept walking around the laboratory and halted at a table, where he gazed at a rather peculiar specimen.

"Hands," said Edward softly, "My hands, these are mine."

Edward stared at the hands in front of him and then at his present hands, his scissors. He kept going back and forth between his hands and his scissors and they began to walk around the laboratory again.

Edward took a deep breath and then stopped in front of the door to the house. Edward gave a big smile and then opened up the doors and stepped out into his beautiful garden.

"What a nice day for some gardening work," said Edward, "Yes, it is."

Edward walked by each bush and gave them trims and then he perfected anything that he thought was necessary. After about half an hour Edward had completed his weekly trim in the garden and then made his way back inside again and up to the attic. Edward stood in front of the gaping hole once more and looked out upon the town. He watched as the men made their daily commute to work and as each car exited the town and then as each women came out of their houses to gather on the street corner. Oh, the street corner, many of a conversation has taken place there. It has always seemed like the perfect spot where everyone could gather and talk without being bothered for if you lived in the town and you weren't at work, you were on the street corner.

After a few minutes had passed one of the women pointed up toward Edward's house, causing Edward to run as fast as he could to the side of the hole, as to not to be in anyone's view. Of course, as you know, they all think he's dead and it would be a very interesting surprise to know that he isn't. Edward still kept a close eye at the women on the street corner and began to wonder why the women would be pointing up at his house. Edward started to compose a couple of ideas in his head, but couldn't really think of a probable one.

"Why is that place still standing, I mean it is an awful sight to look at. I know that Bob especially hates it. He thinks that it ruins the image of the town," said Helen.

All of the women nodded in agreement.

"I certainly agree with you. I mean, nobody lives there and there is no reason for it to still be there," replied Marge.

"I am with you 100 on that," agreed Joyce.

"Well, I know that there is a bad vibe about that place. I can feel it. Yes, I can feel it," said Esmeralda from the back of the group of women.

"Yeah, sure honey," replied Joyce.

"You know what would be a good idea?" said Marge.

"What," chanted in the women.

"What if we hired someone to knock it down. I mean it wouldn't be too much and I bet Joyce here knows somebody who can do it. I mean she knows everyone," explained Marge.

All the women took a look at Joyce.

"In fact, I do know the perfect man for the job. His name is John. He was one of the few that I remember distinctly, for he was at my house only yesterday, working on the house across the street. You see I invited him in for…"

Joyce was cut off.

"Yeah, ok, so, we got the man, but what do with the land," said Helen.

"Hmm, good question," replied Marge, "Hey, how about we discuss this some more over a nice barbecue. My house will be fine. I think once we have some food flowing through us, we could think better."

"Great, idea, I'll bring the Ambrosia Salad," chanted Joyce.

"Ooh, yes, and I'll bring the coleslaw," shouted another woman from the back.

"Right, then, my house at five, tomorrow; I'll see you all then. Bye," said Marge.

Everyone said their good-bye's and made their way back to their houses. As Helen reached her door she felt something peculiar on her hand. She held her hand to her face and noticed a snowflake. She looked up at the sky and saw no clouds and as well it was about eighty degrees outside. She made her way inside, confused and sat down on the couch. She turned on the television to the news channel to see what the upcoming forecast would be.

"Sun, sun, sun; that's right folks, it is going to be hot over the weekend and on until next week. Get your bathing suits out, because you'll need'em," explained the weatherman.

Helen still looked confused. She thought about the snowflake and then tried to convince herself that what she saw wasn't a snowflake, but something that may have fallen out of the gutter. A couple of hours past and her husband came home. Helen told him about the barbecue the next day, but didn't bother to tell him anything else, including about the snowflake.