John was a creative kind of guy. He had crazy blond hair that went in every direction. He wore thick glasses, which magnified his bright green eyes. He made inventions for a living, or at least that's what he told people. He never really got any of his insane ideas to sell, so where he made all of his money wa s kind of a mystery. All of the ideas he had were too crazy, too dangerous. He was always living on the edge. Most people didn't think he'd live past the age of forty, but of course he fooled them all, only by four years though. Johns lived in a mansion, well that's what he thought. You'd think someone with a lot of money would want a big nice house, but not John. He lived in a two bedroom ranch. Nothing special, just your ordinary house I guess, oh but with tons of his inventions scattered across the lawn. He lived in a small town, where news spreads fast. He was once married, but his way of life was too much for her so she left, making him even more crazier, even more dangerous. He had nothing to lose; no kids, no wife, no family, no friends, just...well nothing. All he had were those thoughts constantly running through his scrambled mind. His imagination sometimes got the best of him, leaving him shut in his house for days, weeks, months, and once a whole year. People in the town never questioned his way of life anymore, they knew the routine in which he lived by. His craziness became almost normal to them. Sometimes they even forgot he was there, until the sound of something blowing up would go off, which happened like every two weeks. One fall day, as the leaves were just beginning to change and the winter clothes were being brought out, John decided to leave the house, for the first time in like three weeks. He went to the market and walked around the town, almost feeling like a civilian. "J-J-John is that you?" asked a small younger looking women. She was about 5 feet tall, had short brown hair, and freckles which took over her face, arms and legs. This girl...well...she was his daughter. "I haven't seen you in months." She says, with a look of concern. "Yeah, well, uh, I've been kind of busy with work and stuff. John replies with hesitation. He knew what her response would be. "Oh John, don't you ever miss the outside, the normalcy, your children?" He laughed at this. "Aren't you ever afraid that it will just kill you one day?" She asks, tears welling up in her green eyes. He thinks for a moment and then looks her straight in the eyes and all he does is repeats a line from his favorite book "He was terrified of death, that was the truth, and as a result of spending his life owning his imagination he could see it coming from at least four dozen different directions..."