The Wistful Voyage

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 10:01:51 -

The air in the processing hall always tasted of copper and wet wool, a metallic tang that settled deep in the lungs and refused to leave, a constant reminder that we were not people but vessels for the company’s hunger. I stood at Station Four, my back aching with a dull, rhythmic throb that matched the clatter of the conveyor belt, watching the gray sludge of raw material move past me in an...

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