The Distant Affair
The calibrator is a heavy thing, made of brass and cold steel, and you hold it against your chest as if it were a second heart. It is the only thing that keeps the rhythm of the factory floor from becoming a deafening roar in your ears. You are the senior technician, a title that carries more weight than respect, and the weight is crushing. The air in the textile mill is thick with the scent of...
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