Höstdrama. W En novell. Finns i bokhandeln.
Chapter ONE "What a racket!" Edward thought, after standing in the hallway and listening for a well over a few minutes. Quickly, he then took the four steps to the front door and opened it, halfway only, peeking out. People with red faces were running up and down the stairs. Some wore shoes, other did not. Some of them were crying, others were screaming, right out. "What's going on?!" Edward shouted. "Somebody has been MURDERED. In the laundry room!" a barefoot girl unbeknownst to Edward hollered to him, with her stiffened purple hair protruding in a little tuft towards the sky, tightly holding the sleeves of her modern dark blue duffel with both hands. "Murdered?? Someone..." "Yes," she said. She had stopped at his floor, because she had hurt a toe a little. "It's probably best if you stay inside," she said dismissively and cruelly, and Edward thought he must look ghastly, as he often thought himself nowadays,
