The Workshop

"The Junkers," she said, "They’re coming."

She said it in a whisper, barely audible over the low hum of the machinery. I felt panic overtake the workshop as the engineers hid or destroyed whatever they could.

I looked down at my own project, a miniature transportation device-the first of it’s kind-but there was no time to hide the small wonder. I could think of no place that would fit it’s metal tracks, or it’s gleaming steel haul, or it’s tiny smoke stack. So I tearfully dismantled it, praying that I would remember how to put it back together, and gave it to my friend Jonathan to put under his coat.

I held the tiny piece of coal which I had been playing with in my hands, trying to decide what to do. It was smaller than my thumb tip, but even this small amount would land me 20-35 years in prison. On the other hand, I had no idea where I’d be able to get another one, or how much it would cost. I threw it in the fire place, watching it burn quickly.

The others had begun to fix their attire, and I chose to follow suit. I took off my goggles and hid them in my corset before fixing my dress so that no one could see the grease and grime on said corset. From my bag I took my gloves in an attempt to hide my dirty, calloused hands. Lastly, I took my seat at the long table and watched as someone placed a glass of wine in front of me.

Just as the last person took their seat and glass of wine and we all began to talk as though at a dinner party, the door opened with a loud thud.

I felt as though my heart was beating out of my chest as the Captain of the Contraption Patrol stepped through the door and was greeted by the owner of the house, Mr. Smedge.

"What is it that I can do for you, Sir?" Mr. Smedge asked, his tone cordial.

The Captain smiled as more of The Junkers, as we call them, came prowling through the door, “We received an anonymous tip that there was an unlawful workshop here.”

Mr. Smedge was outwardly calm as he said, “Really? Well, as you can see we are simply having a dinner party amongst friends.”

The Captain’s smile reminded me of a wolf when he said, “Is that so? Well in that case, you won’t mind if my men take a look around.”

I could see Mr.Smedge’s composure begin to break, “Of course, help yourselves.”

The Junkers began overturning chairs and tables, pulling down curtains, even emptying ash trays. I did my best to sit there and not look nervous.

Eventually, they accomplished their task, and miraculously the discovered nothing. The captain scowled, “Thank you, have a nice night.” They left the way they came and we all breathed a sigh of relief

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