[Ash]: 102.Contests.Famous First Lines.September 2008

The edges of things are what fascinate him; the change of a season, the seashore, the first hint of light at dawn. However round things he loathed, balls, the rim of hats, and the curvature of women. ‘Women’ he though pacing up and down the shore line staring at the edge of the sky where it touches the edge of the earth, ‘always with their curve, there round theories, their….’ He shivered as he kept thinking.

‘Men,’ he continued with a edgy smile. ‘Men are straight thinkers, understand the edge of the world.’ His mid was distracted by the edge so much he has hit someone who was also just as distracted. They bounced back off each other and there, in black wisps coming of in sharp corners and pointy shoulders, the entire of him covered in edges was Death. “You… again.”

“I know. I just wanted to here the ‘edges are great’ story before I start taking people.” The reaper said calmly.

“Edges…” he said pressing his glasses calmly up on his face. “…are great. If the stupid people keep walking, they fall off the edge. Edgy is the new everything, always has been and always will be. The edgier you are, the more people love to watch you. Also, edges offer stability, curves there’s always space involved, unneeded and extra. Edges are flat, the end, and no extra space at all.”

“And who is the ultimate edge…?” Death began to grow in size until he was nearly three times the height of the boy. The boy smiled knowing the ending word for word.

“The ultimate edge, even if you see it is inescapable. Sometimes he is desirable but mostly unwanted. The last and greatest edge is Death. No extra space involved and at the end everyone falls off and there is no unneeded space ever used.” The boy bowed, his glasses falling off. Death knelt down slowly and picked them up, his long tender hand offering the vision to the boy.

The boy took the glasses. Setting them back on his hose he looked death in the face. Death sighed happily at hearing how he was involved with the love affair of the boy. “It warms these old cold bones to hear that I, the reaper of souls, am in such a warming rant!” He heckled in his light hurting voice and began to walk away.

“I’ll see you on the edge of Tuesday.”

“No…” Death said quietly. “You won’t. I’ll visit though.”