Iron Angel - Introduction

Behind the junkyard at the edge of the world lay a small place. Well, lay woould be the wrong word, since it wasn't really laying around like most of the junk that collected near the edges. It floated, actually, sailing around with no cares in the world. Place would also give you the wrong impression, since it was a house. Well, not technically, but if you call something with four walls and a roof a house, then it wouldn't be a house.

So, the sentence is:
Over the junkyard at the edge of the world floated a carefree non-house.

That is my home and that is where I was born.