The Hunt for Miss Emily
Observe the young lady intent on her task. A stream of sparks highlight her face as she ignites her blowtorch with a practiced hand. She leans over the workbench, drops her protective goggles over her eyes, and touches fire to metal.
Upon closer inspection of the lovely lady, however, one will notice the single bead of sweat on her brow. That single droplet of perspiration has nothing to do with the blowtorch and everything to do with the man looming in the doorway.
As she works, observe her workshop. Though large, it is full of jumble and clutter, making it appear smaller than it is. The shelves are overrun with gears and bolts. Several workbenches with parts scattered everywhere line the walls. The innards of every kind of machine imaginable has found its way into her domain at one time or another. There was no finer tinkerer in the village than Miss Emily.
The day Miss Emily disappeared caused a stir among the normally reserved villagers. Agitated, they called a Council to discuss her whereabouts.