The Distant Machine
The ink was still wet on the final column of the ledger when the machine hummed, a low, vibrating note that seemed to rise from the floorboards rather than the brass casing itself. I dipped my pen, the nib trembling slightly in the chill of the ministry office, and watched the steam-automaton’s brass finger point to line forty-two, a date I had not yet entered, flagging an error that did not...
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