I Fuel the Great Machine: Part III

(Read part I and part II.)

Agnes had kept the silver fork rather than turn it in, that very strange day at the Factory five years earlier. She told herself that as an honorable and loyal citizen of Slantia, she would keep it in her safe possession rather than offer it to the work-motivators, and disguised that bottomless feeling of fear she so constantly experienced in her stomach as genuine care for the order and well-being of Slantia. She feared the “misunderstanding” of forfeiting it, of the inevitable accusation of stealing–she knew how this sort of thing went–, and so it remained taped to the underside of her bed, tucked in the groove of a plank of metal. Continue reading “I Fuel the Great Machine: Part III”