The Workshop

By morning the floorboards had memorized his footsteps. Elias moved between lathe and ledger with the ease of someone who had stopped asking whether the two belonged together.

The old machinist’s notes were written in margins: listen before you tighten, measure twice in silence. Elias copied the phrases into his own notebook, not because he believed them yet, but because they left room for doubt.

Outside, merchants shouted prices. Inside, the tower’s tick grew one beat closer to meaning.