The Distant Machine
The debt is due on the first, and the landlord’s letter was posted three days ago. October 12, 1893 The smell of the workshop is worse today. It is not the smell of oil and brass, which I have known for twenty years, but something damp and sweet, like rotting apples left in a cellar. I have been at the bench since dawn, trying to coax the Great Clock back into time. The mechanism is a beast of...
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