The Distant Promise
The wrench bit into the hexagonal head of the bolt, and I turned it with a slow, grinding force that vibrated up through my forearms and into the base of my skull. The steam engine, a monstrosity of blackened cast iron and riveted steel that dominated the center of the Blackwood Ironworks’ main floor, groaned in protest. It was not a mechanical failure, I told myself, though the low, mournful...
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