The Distant Machine
"Margaret, stop that. You’re going to break the floorboards." Thomas’s voice came from the hallway, muffled by the heavy oak door that separated the living room from the basement. I did not answer. I could not. My hands were buried in the warm, slick grease of the main drive shaft, and my fingers were trembling so violently that the wrench slipped, striking my knuckle. The pain was sharp,...
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