It was late October and the trees on the abandoned road were red-orange and leaves piled in drifts alongside shrubbery and curbs. Houses stood empty and boarded up and the road was paved in the same red fallen leaves as the yards. A brisk wind swept through the street and wrapped itself around the lone house at the end of the lane that looked like it had some sort of life in it that wasn't rats and spiders. There was a large pick up truck, metal bodied and square – from the late 70's with flat dry-rotted tires and there was a much newer and shinier nondescript red little car. The yard had been recently attacked with a weed-eater and not very well, the hedges were overgrown and trying to take over the yard and the yards next it and there was a shingle or several missing off the roof. “I can't believe you found me a handyman, Enid.” A man leaned against the door and cradled a cellphone against his ear. “And set this whole thing up for me... I am thankful but I'm also kinda nervous. I mean, what sort of handyman are you sending me?” There was a few moments where the woman on the other side of the phone grouched at him affectionately and told him to get over it and buck up and if she heard there was any violence there was going to be hell to pay. “What on earth are you talking about?” Greyson Devereux added perplexed as ever as she hung up on him saying that something needed her attention and it sure as hell wasn't him. He ran a hand through thick black hair as he peered out at the deserted road through slightly smudged glasses and waited patiently on the supposed handyman. Hopefully the man was as useful as Enid claimed... White clouds bounded across the blue sky.