The Wistful Show
The count was simple, though the arithmetic of survival was not. One hundred and forty-four hours remained until the City Council’s demolition crew arrived to dismantle the Great Meridian Clock, and Elias Thorne had only enough brass filings to repair three escapements. He weighed the filings in the small brass scale on his workbench, the metal cold and indifferent to the sweat beading on his...
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