Dorothy was always as strong as metal bars. Her arms like layers of copper pipes intertwined like my power cable was. She had a way of understanding the world, processing it, compiling data, and spitting out a printed sheet of condensed knowledge that was not unlike a learning computer. Dorothy always hummed as she worked, like the humming of an old appliance. Her hum was melodic and tonal, but it blended perfectly with all of the machinery she surrounded herself with. When she swayed, she looked like a metronome, ticking back and forth in perfect rhythm. The waves of her black hair danced like liquid carbon and her personality was as magnetic as the poles that shifted her world around.