The Distant Ghost
Act I Marlene Krueger stood in the doorway of the workshop on sixty-three of the Bellfounders' Walk, her hands raw from the cold, watching the fog eat the sound of the noon siren. She had wanted to sell the place, to pay the debts that clung to Elias like wet wool, but the town’s prejudice against a woman artisan had turned every offer into a mockery. The draft that moved the gears without wind...
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