The Distant Affair
The fracture was hairline, a whisper of silver against the brass, but to my eye it screamed. I held the loupe up, the glass trembling in my grip, and watched the flaw spread across the central gear of the Grand Meridian. It was not a crack in the metal; it was a crack in me, a physical manifestation of the fever that had consumed my hands and my mind for the past three years. I needed to speak...
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