Several hours later after helping around, when I returned to Mark's workshop, the scene that greeted me was equal parts impressive and terrifying. The former planning office had been transformed into what looked like a weapons manufacturing facility, complete with scattered components, technical diagrams sketched on scraps of paper, and the acrid smell of welding work that made my eyes water.
Mark stood hunched over a workbench, a welding mask pushed up onto his forehead as he examined what appeared to be a modified propane torch. His cigarette dangled precariously from the corner of his mouth, seemingly immune to the various flammable materials scattered around his workspace. The man's disregard for basic safety protocols was both admirable and absolutely insane.
Regardless....at what freaking speed this old man was working actually? I couldn't b believe he was already nearly done...
