It seems that after all of my efforts, these experiments with biology, anatomy, chemistry and electricity came to naught. The lifeless clay of my life’s work lay on the table, mocking my years of toil.
Adding insult to injury, Mrs. Kemph, the woman who straightens my living quarters, had dared to enter the lab and threw away a work in progress. To say I was livid would be an understanding.
Walking through the village, my mind working out what went wrong with this latest experiment, I fumed as I couldn’t get past the dolt Mrs. Kemph.
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