Feeling the call of the sparrows on the wind, and breathing in the a cool, summer breeze, Benjamin Lloyd set to work upon what would hopefully be his greatest painting to date. His son, Timothy.

Timothy had spent the last fifteen minutes or so frolicking in the simple, outdoor pool that Ben had inflated for him only a few days before. He loved it, Benjamin knew, and few things in the last few days had sparked enough interest in Timmy to leave the sanctity of the water. That was Benjamin's latest piece, one surely destined to bring unto him the respect and admiration he so rightfully deserved.

"Who wants lemonade?" Regan Lloyd asked cheerfully as the sliding sound of the glass patio door lured Ben away from the unfinished sketch of his only child.

"Oooh," Benjamin said as he gazed at the petite brunette that held the pitcher of destiny. "I do."

"I thought as much," Regan chuckled as she set the pitcher and two glasses down on the black stand that sat beside Benjamin.

"Very good, Love," Benjamin said as he looked up at his wife and smiled. Setting his brush down next to his easle, Ben took up the pitcher and poured himself a glass. Behind the couple, and away from either of their fields of vision, a black crow landed next to the tiny swimming pool.

Timmy laughed as he spied the bird from his home away from the world. Seemingly echoing his laughter, the bird began a series of chirps and struts, ones that were choriographed so perfectly that Timmy just had to stand and follow.

As Regan and Benjamin exchaned idle chit-chat, the black crow led Timmy around to the side of the house, where it began to slowly peck away at a long, black nail, lying beside an open electrical outlet.