The Steam That Stole Tomorrow
The fog rolled in off the Thames at half past seven, as it always did in November of 1888. Eleanor Blackwood stood at the laboratory window and watched the gas lamps struggle against it, their yellow halos dissolving into the grey. Below, in the streets of Whitechapel, the poor were already making their way to the factories and the workhouses. They did not know that tonight, for the first time,...
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