Terry Long
Bio
I am a perpetually emerging writer on the neurodiversity spectrum with a life long interest in the space program. I live north of Toronto, with my dog Lily. I collect and build Lego kits as a hobby.
Stories (11)
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To Slip the Surly Bonds
Stubbs and Goddard General Manufacturers Roxbury, Massachusetts March, 1883 Nahum, Elias and Horace fell into line behind Hub as he walked toward the door at the far end of the engine house. He pulled it open and the four of them went through. As soon as Nahum went through the boiler house door, he felt as though he had walked into a wall. It was almost intolerably hot. Nahum felt beads of perspiration gather on his forehead as he walked through the door. The air was thick with the smell of coal dust. A loud rhythmic clanging echoed off the walls, from the regular opening and closing of a metal door as the two stokers steadily fed shovelfuls of coal in the gaping maw of the boiler.
By Terry Long8 months ago in Chapters
To Slip the Surly Bonds
Boston, Massachusetts, March, 1883 The train pulled into the train station with a belch of steam and the clanging of its bell just before midnight. Nahum drew back the curtain and looked out the window of his compartment. The gas lamps cast a ruddy orange glow over a deserted train shed. There was a knock on the compartment door. Nahum turned away from the window at the sudden sound. “Yes?”
By Terry Long8 months ago in Chapters
To Slip the Surly Bonds
The St. Louis Hat Company St. Louis, Missouri Winter, 1883 Eunice stepped aside and Nahum entered the room. The man behind the desk was large and beefy looking. The window behind him looked out into the artificial canyon of the street below. Two matching craftsman style chairs made of varnished pine stood in front of the desk. A brass light fixture hung from the ceiling, bathing the room in a steady glow of electric light.
By Terry Long8 months ago in Chapters
To Slip the Surly Bonds
Winter, 1883 When Nahum arrived at the factory the next day, he once again threaded his way through the noise and chaos of the factory floor and went straight up to his office, which he now knew to be on the on the opposite side of the hallway from Toby’s small office and from three down from Simeon’s. Toby’s office was more like an alcove. Nahum had peeked a quick look at the space before leaving the previous night. The young man’s office had a small window overlooking the factory floor and barely enough room for a small roll-top desk, a chair and a stove. A clock had ticked quietly on the wall above the desk. The door opened as Nahum passed by and Toby emerged.
By Terry Long8 months ago in Chapters
To Slip the Surly Bonds
Stubbs and Goddard General Manufactures Inc. Boston, Massachusetts January, 1883 The large red brick edifice was visible three blocks down the street when Nahum alighted from the streetcar twenty minutes later. North Roxbury was a beehive of industry. A forest of smokestacks dominated the skyline. The snow drifts piled against the buildings were tinged grey from the persistent coal soot in the air. Everything had a slightly grimy look. Little knots of people streamed down both sides of the street into the various factories and warehouses lining both sides of the road. The din of pounding machinery clanked and rumbled from inside as Nahum walked past the open doors. Heavy delivery wagons and the steady clopping of horses’ hooves on the frozen cobblestones added to the cacophony. The street was a frozen river, a slurry of snow, mud and horse manure.
By Terry Long8 months ago in Chapters
To Slip the Surly Bonds
January, 1883 Worcester, Massachusetts Two horses stood snorting in of front the house on Maple Hill, their breath misting in the cold January air. The wagon behind them was piled high with furniture, trunks of clothes and the other sundry belongings of the house’s occupants. The door opened and two men in coveralls and thick winter coats came out. They were carrying a heavy chest of drawers and sweating profusely, despite the freezing temperature. They picked their way carefully across the bare snow covered yard from the house to where the freight wagon stood weighed down with furniture. Their hobnail boots skidded on patches of ice hidden under the snow several times.
By Terry Long9 months ago in Chapters
To Slip the Surly Bonds
October 5, 1882 Worchester, Massachusetts “Push, Mrs. Goddard, push!” said Dr. Dunwood. Fannie Louise Goddard lay on her bed, her night clothes drawn up above her waist, exposing her distended abdomen. Her face wore a thin sheen of perspiration. It was twisted into a grimace as she breathed in and out rapidly. Her legs were spread apart in front of her.
By Terry Long9 months ago in Chapters
The Life and Times of Andy Richards
Andy Richards was jolted back to consciousness by the sound of his jangling alarm clock. A hand reached out from under the bed covers as the offending sound split the stillness of the dark bedroom. Andy groped blindly across the surface of the nightstand, brushing past a pair of glasses and a paperback book toward the source of offending noise.
By Terry Long9 months ago in Fiction
