The Distant Crown
The boiler cracked first. It was a sound like a bone snapping in a quiet room. I felt the vibration in my teeth before I heard it. Steam hissed from the joints of the iron engine. The workshop was cold. It was always cold. The winter wind scraped against the single pane of glass in the high window. I did not look up. I was calibrating the tension on the wire. My hands were steady. They are...
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