The Distant Legend
The fire started in the boiler room beneath the textile mill on a Tuesday morning, the kind of gray, sludge-filled morning that sat heavy on the shoulders of the workers of Ashworth & Sons, and when the alarm bells began their discordant, shrieking wail, it was not the heat or the smoke that first registered in my mind but the sudden, violent absence of the loom’s rhythmic thrumming that had...
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