Jake's photos of magic wonders: October 2012

Phillip sat there, in his favorite spot, playing his accordion. He had grown to be very good at playing the instrument, but seeing as it was illegal for automatons to do anything but serve, he had to keep it secret. He wasn't really a (as he would say) full automaton, but rather, a cyborg. After his incident, Phillip's body was left ravaged and his memory had been completely erased. That was when Phillip met him, the closest thing to a father he would ever have. Phillip was lucky that a lowly clock maker had been searching the junkyard for parts when he stumbled across the Phillips husk of a body.

When Phillip awoke, he felt... different. As he turned his head to take in his surroundings, he felt an unnatural clicking in his neck. Looking down, he found that he now had claws in place of hands and a bronze shell for a body. Before he could react, a small, frail, old man walked into the room. "You need not worry son, you're safe here," Phillip tried to answer, but all that came out was a gargled gear clicks. The old man chuckle, "I've already broken about a dozen laws already, I though I'd make life easier on you and not give you any vocal receptors. My name is Hans, and you are... Oh right no voice, silly me. How do you feel about, Alfred?" I shook my, head, it didn't sound like me; "Charlie," no, "Rodger," no, "Phillip?" He thought for a second or two, he like the sound of it, there was something about it that was familiar about the name.

For the next few weeks, Hans continued to fix up Phillip. During that time, Phillip would read the massive amounts of books Hans had collected over the years. Even once the repairs were done, Phillip continued to read, and read, and read. He read so many books, that he had blown through Hans' entire library in the matter of a few weeks.

One day, Hans walked up to Phillip with something behind his back. Phillip had been trying to help around the clock shop, but his metal body restricted him from any of the delicate tasks that was required of him. "I think I know how you can still help around the shop," Hans said with a smile. From behind him, Hans produce an old axe. "I am too poor to buy anymore firewood to help melt my metal, and too weak to cut down my own. Do you think you can help me Phillip?" Elated, Phillip grasped the axe in his metallic claws, it felt natural even with his lack of coordination. Not a moment later, Phillip was in the nearby forest chopping down every tree in sight. Phillip was over joyed that he had finally found something he can do to help.

During one extra cold winter, Hans had been even more sick than the old man usually was and needed even more firewood than normal. Hans headed out to cut down more trees, and returned an hour or two later with the lumber. When he arrived, he found Hans waiting for him with a gift in his hands, a perfectly square box with a large red ribbon on top. "Merry Christmas Phillip," Hans said excitedly. Phillip had never been given a gift before, at least none that he could remember. Phillip opened the gist to find a glimmering accordion laying peacefully in the box. The next few weeks had been spent learning the instrument. Like everything else Phillip had done, it came quite easily. But also like most everything Phillip had done and was, it had to be secret.

That's where we find Phillip now, on his little stump on the larger than average and not the small hill. Playing his accordion... waiting. It had been three hours since Hans had told him between grievous coughs that he must go and leave Phillip. He told Phillip to wait there for him until he felt it right to leave.After that, Hans felt a piercing pain in his chest, his time was coming to an end. "Good-bye son, I'll see you in a few hours," and with that Hans left, never to been seen again. To this day, Phillip waits for him, A few more hours, he says to himself, and with that he waits a little longer... and longer... and longer.