The Golden Echoes
The banquet hall at the St. Jude’s Industrial Workers’ Hall smelled of roasted turkey, stale beer, and the heavy, metallic tang of industrial grease that clung to the walls like a second skin, a pervasive odor that seemed to seep into the very marrow of the bones of those who sat at the long, scarred oak tables where the factory men and their families gathered for the annual autumn celebration,...
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