She Had Never Dealt With An Experiment Gone Haywire Before

The morning light forced its way through the film of grease coating the windows of the potting shed turned artificers' shop. Clarissa left the door open to air out the taste of motor oil hanging in the air. She guided a broken automaton to her worktable, limping from a bent piston and sparking from frayed circuits.

"Stupid manufactory discarding an automaton in need of a simple repair. We'll start our own manufactory. What do you say? We could build pets for the lonely." Clarissa tied up her skirts to keep them from snagging on stray gears and began the repairs.

"Excellent idea, ma'am," the automaton said, a hint of disbelief in its electronic voice.  

Repairs were complete by tea time. By dinner, the engineer and automaton artificer team started their first project. The sun grew rosy through the greasy glass as the automaton fitted together an appendage and Clarissa assembled an accelerator to use as a heart.

"I must get some rest." Clarissa yawned. "Can we choose the shape of our experiment tomorrow?"

"Of course. Sleep well," the automaton's voice rang out happily.

Come morning, Clarissa eagerly bounded for the shed. To her horror, an enormous mechanical spider emerged to greet her. Before she could run, it snared her and held fast.

Her automaton partner jauntily stepped out, asking, "What do you think of our first pet?"

The spider tightened its embrace. She had never dealt with an experiment gone haywire before.

"Lovely," Clarissa squeaked. "Though, I'd imagined a puppy."      

Photo Composite | Originals by Annie Spratt & Anirudh