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Description
Chapter 2; Lilly's Child
Lillian Marshall had gone of her rocker some months ago now, she had been noticed talking to herself loudly at night by her neighbours, and they even began to fear her, so the visits stopped. She saw herself as a woman on a mission now, a mission that was unclear, it didn't help that she was now an 84 year old woman who had suffered the loss of her husband. What would Dale think of her now?
Ever since that day she found herself in the kitchen, hugging a toaster and weeping softly she had begun putting things back together, she began completing the life that she had wanted deep down. She had wanted a family, she didn't want to be dependent on the government, and she wanted someone who genuinely cared about her. Not someone who was paid to do it. The broken remains of household appliances that were once a carpet to Lilly's empty flat were now becoming part of Lilly's life. She had always understood this feeling towards inanimate objects, it was down to the job she had for the best 30 years of her life, she remembers people arriving in tears with their friends broken into pieces, cracked or with missing parts.
What she was making would always be unclear to the untrained eyes of anyone other than Lilly Marshall. She hadn't put these appliances back together in their original forms; instead she was merging them all into some sort of a machine. When she worked, she smiled and when she stopped working she drew. Her drawings resembled that of scribbles by a five-year-old but they made perfect sense to her, and that's all that mattered. She had every picture ever taken of Dale placed on her desk so that she would always feel the same warmth of inspiration as though he were still there now. Lilly had not looked out of the window in weeks, she didn't feel a need for it anymore; she had something much more important.
Suddenly while doing another rough scribble on a piece of paper Lilly had to stop. For the first time in months, she felt pain, physical pain. Until now since the death of Dale, Lilly had only felt emotional pain, she had merely forgotten to take her physical state into account. The pain she felt was overwhelming, it shot right through her body, from head to toe. She attempted to curl up over her knee to ease some of this pain; however she was unable to do more than bend her neck.
The pain lasted no more than 5 minutes, though it seemed like an eternity to Lilly. When it had finally subsided Lilly felt exhausted. For once she didn't want to work, she didn't want to move, and she just wanted to sleep. She stumbled over to the sofa and got herself comfortable, before closing her eyes she gazed through into the kitchen at what appeared to be a pile of scrap on the floor. To Lilly it was more than scrap however, it was her life's worth. It was what was giving her reason to wake up each and every morning, but for now, Lilly needed to rest, closing her eyes she drifted off easily.
The pile of junk in the kitchen upon closer inspection looked curious. Lilly had made wheels from pots with their handles removed, there were four of them, two small saucepans near the front and two large cauldrons near the back. Between the wheels Lilly had used the casing of a television to try and hideaway wires and circuit boards that were still visible through areas missing covering, she had attempted to weld the television parts together using a soldering iron; she was very imaginative that way. Higher up there was just what looked like a mess of dreadlocks made from wires of all colours bulging out from the body of the television casing. It didn't look attractive, it didn't look modern, and it looked like an accident.

Description
Chapter 2; Lilly's Child
Lillian Marshall had gone of her rocker some months ago now, she had been noticed talking to herself loudly at night by her neighbours, and they even began to fear her, so the visits stopped. She saw herself as a woman on a mission now, a mission that was unclear, it didn't help that she was now an 84 year old woman who had suffered the loss of her husband. What would Dale think of her now?
Ever since that day she found herself in the kitchen, hugging a toaster and weeping softly she had begun putting things back together, she began completing the life that she had wanted deep down. She had wanted a family, she didn't want to be dependent on the government, and she wanted someone who genuinely cared about her. Not someone who was paid to do it. The broken remains of household appliances that were once a carpet to Lilly's empty flat were now becoming part of Lilly's life. She had always understood this feeling towards inanimate objects, it was down to the job she had for the best 30 years of her life, she remembers people arriving in tears with their friends broken into pieces, cracked or with missing parts.
What she was making would always be unclear to the untrained eyes of anyone other than Lilly Marshall. She hadn't put these appliances back together in their original forms; instead she was merging them all into some sort of a machine. When she worked, she smiled and when she stopped working she drew. Her drawings resembled that of scribbles by a five-year-old but they made perfect sense to her, and that's all that mattered. She had every picture ever taken of Dale placed on her desk so that she would always feel the same warmth of inspiration as though he were still there now. Lilly had not looked out of the window in weeks, she didn't feel a need for it anymore; she had something much more important.
Suddenly while doing another rough scribble on a piece of paper Lilly had to stop. For the first time in months, she felt pain, physical pain. Until now since the death of Dale, Lilly had only felt emotional pain, she had merely forgotten to take her physical state into account. The pain she felt was overwhelming, it shot right through her body, from head to toe. She attempted to curl up over her knee to ease some of this pain; however she was unable to do more than bend her neck.
The pain lasted no more than 5 minutes, though it seemed like an eternity to Lilly. When it had finally subsided Lilly felt exhausted. For once she didn't want to work, she didn't want to move, and she just wanted to sleep. She stumbled over to the sofa and got herself comfortable, before closing her eyes she gazed through into the kitchen at what appeared to be a pile of scrap on the floor. To Lilly it was more than scrap however, it was her life's worth. It was what was giving her reason to wake up each and every morning, but for now, Lilly needed to rest, closing her eyes she drifted off easily.
The pile of junk in the kitchen upon closer inspection looked curious. Lilly had made wheels from pots with their handles removed, there were four of them, two small saucepans near the front and two large cauldrons near the back. Between the wheels Lilly had used the casing of a television to try and hideaway wires and circuit boards that were still visible through areas missing covering, she had attempted to weld the television parts together using a soldering iron; she was very imaginative that way. Higher up there was just what looked like a mess of dreadlocks made from wires of all colours bulging out from the body of the television casing. It didn't look attractive, it didn't look modern, and it looked like an accident.