The Rust Belt Ache
The factory whistle blew at six in the morning, and Danny O'Brien woke up to the sound of it even though the factory had been closed for three years. His body remembered what his mind had tried to forget: the vibration of the assembly line, the smell of machine oil and sweat, the way the fluorescent lights buzzed like trapped insects overhead. He was twenty-six years old and his hands were...
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