The Distant Machine

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2026-08-23 07:19:52 -

October 12, 1911 The tremor in my left hand has become a distinct, rhythmic vibration, a mechanical grinding that seems to emanate from the very marrow of my radius and ulna. The doctors at the company infirmary call it "the machine’s rejection," a polite euphemism for the fact that my body is no longer compatible with the precision required of a senior railway inspector. I am forty-two years...

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