Lovely writing. Elegant and elusive, as always. Well worth the read.


They stretch tall and move from pillar to pillar. A man on the Work floor commented to me one day, pointing up at a loose piece of steel. “We need an Operator to come down and help, one with long arms. Maybe he could reach that bit of metal.” Some of us admired the Operators and some of us were confused by them; intimidated and curious with quickly chirping hearts. My first visit to the Work floor was when I first saw the Operator’s. They were quiet like flickering shadows, moving between machines, flipping switches and dials that clanked with resilience and purpose. That faint look of intensity that I saw on a passing Operator caught me with hooks. His hair was blond and on his red sleeve there was a lovely and curving number 2,representing his rank. Ever since that small and fleeting moment, I wanted more then anything…

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