Holderfield/A Twist in Time/2
Loud, frantic knocks reverberated in Mr. CharlesBadon's workroom. He rolled his eyes in frustration as hedropped a wrench. "Why can I not have peace? I never havepeace in this bloody century. I hate it. I hate everything about it
—this choking air, the greedy people, the innocent suffering…
There's so much pain and sadness here. I do not belong here.People despise me; fear me because I am an inventor." Hesnorted. "They say I am 'crazy' when clearly I am not. I amdetermined and creative, yes, but not crazy. Yet even thesethings such as creativity are treated as a crime..." More knockssounded and Badon just briefly wiped his hands on a rag,smiling momentarily in amusement. He sighed heavily. "I wish
I could get away. I could…if this bloody machine would work!"
He kicked it in frustration."Mr. Badon!" exclaimed the maid, raising her voice overthe clacking, buzzing sound of a machine. "When will you openthis door? And what's that I hear?""'It's nothing, Mrs. Winford. Do not be concerned,"Badon spoke through the loud ruckus."Mr. Badon, stop that racket this instant! Mr. Badon!"She knocked once more, louder this time.