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With his free hand, he picked up the light he had on his desk and moved it over to the shelf. Dust flew into the air as he placed the light down, causing him to let out a few coughs. This particular night Maxwell had stayed up later than he usually did. He knew better than to stay up this late, but he was so close to finishing his doll, he didn't have much patience left. Besides, he was so full of anticipation, he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. The doll was almost ready, and was looking more human  by the minute. A smile crawled upon his lips. A machine had never been able to make the inventor this happy before, and for once, he felt like he had really accomplished something.


Three knocks interrupted Maxwell's work.


He placed down his tools beside the doll after a moments hesitation and opened the door. Standing beneath the door frame was a young lady wearing a pair of dirty overalls over an even dirtier shirt. Her hair was in messy pigtails and her face was caked with what looked like oil. The inventor knew this girl fairly well, but not that he wanted to. She was fascinated with inventing, much like he was, but he didn't want help. He was doing fine on his own. Besides, no one knew how to make his machines but him and him alone.


“Hi Maxie,” she beamed, rushing past the inventor and into the workshop. Maxwell shuddered at the nickname. To him, that wasn't something one called a professional inventor, it was something you called a little boy stacking blocks on top of each other. He didn't understand why she thought they knew each other well enough to even use nicknames. He wasn't even comfortable with using her first name.

The End

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