The Distant Legend
The coal dust had settled into the very marrow of our existence, a grey silt that coated the tongue and clogged the lungs, and when the fire broke out in the lower boiler room of the Ashworth Mill, it was not a dramatic explosion but a slow, suffocating bloom of heat that turned the familiar clanking of the machinery into a shrieking, metallic wail that seemed to tear the fabric of the...
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