Life-Sized!

Part I - Growing Pains

Feynman Avenue was a street at a rather calm part of the residential sector of Weastside. Today, it was decidedly quiet. Very quiet. Nothing much really occurred on this lane in particular in a long time. Its history dates back decades when the construction first commenced by the city to further develop residential areas, in an attempt to distance Weastside from its factory town roots and into a city that offered pretty much anything to anyone, from a budding entrepreneur looking to expand an international chain of profitable business to the working man who simply sought an affordable, pleasant house. When the first construction commenced, the contractors were specifically requested to use a warm, yet  subtly yellowish color palate to the houses, giving them a sense of welcome and good feeling, and to dive them a sense of energy, due to the yellows looking like it was perpetually sunrise. Houses were spaced further apart than what many considered normal, to prevent crowding and to give everything a nice rural atmosphere. The structures were specifically designed to be rather small in both height and area on each floor, both to make them inexpensive so more people will buy into them, yet in a special, unique kind of way that made the inhabitant feel like the neighborhood was quaint and country-esque, even though they were living in a predominantly suburban district of the city, and down the main road, there was a large, industrial part of town that was anything but quaint and rural. The plan succeeded nonetheless, and Feynman Avenue was a popular enough block to be notable in the city's infrastructure, yet small enough not become crowded and over saturated with people, (which would basically defeat the purpose of building such a neighborhood) and had nothing of real note happen for the street in decades. No murder, accidents, not even any new houses being built in a span of decades. Just as they had planned.

The streets, like on any other normal day, were once again silent. The trees whistled to the light sounds of trees rustling, the sky remained blank, only the empty shade of blue stretching on for miles. A man was strolling about the sidewalk, seeming to have nothing else to do. His name was Joe Clark Turner, a rather capable man who had, well, nothing else to do in his life. His shortish figure, rather average shape and form, and his medium brown hair, complimenting his light skin tone and freckled face made him look ultimately regular and unremarkable, which was exactly the kind of man he was. What would a man like him do with his life, though? For Joe, not even he was all that certain on his goals in life. Sure, he wasn't a slacker, yet he never specialized in a particular task to the point that he would want to pursue such a job. He had always been pretty competent at many tasks thrown his way (not all of them, mind you, he would still fall flat on his face when trying to dance and he would always be one of the first ones out in dodge ball). One day, though, he became aware at how much of a jack of all trades he was at working, and had an epiphany: he could whatever jobs people needed him to do as a career. From that realization, he founded Joe and His Odd Jobs, a program solely based on giving service to those who were in vague need of it. The service started out with maybe a phone call a day, maybe two if he was lucky. As he fixed people's sinks and raked the leaves that scattered themselves across the awfully spacious lawns that every house had, people started to take a liking to him. He was relatively lenient, and pretty agreeable with his clients, which led to him gaining a bit of a following around town. The one phone call soon turned to five, and then ten a day, with a pretty sizable set of fans, even with him being in a rather obscure part of town. He wasn't lying in the dollars, but it was enough to pay his rent and buy him some nice things.

Today wasn't the most profitable day for Joe, as it seemed as if everybody's things took care of themselves for the day. Ambling on the sidewalk for a solid few houses and crosswalks, he couldn't decide on where to go. There was nothing but houses in the expanse of his vision, and nothing seemed to spruce things up. It was times like this that he hated living in such a spaced out neighborhood. It certainly had its perks, like him having some elbow room and some quiet neighbors. It was just that nothing was there!