The Wistful Throne
The boiler coughed. A jet of steam hissed from the valve. It scalded the air. Thomas stood still. He was ten years old. His hands shook. The metal was hot. It burned his palms. He did not let go. The house was dark. The power was out. The gas line had ruptured. The smell was thick. Sulfur and iron. Thomas held the valve tight. The pressure built. His fingers slipped. He gripped again. The pipe...
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