From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Tactile
I’m hunched over the hardwood floor, my fingers stinging from tightening the tiny, sharp brass bolts on my new Meccano set. The heavy, cold iron of the Lionel train engine feels solid in my palm, a real beast compared to the itchy wool of my trousers that chafes against my knees as I crawl. Blimey, the brass band’s swagger in "Blaze Away" is thumping so loud from the neighbor's phonograph that I can hardly focus on the news of the Tsar's threats. I just want to finish this crane before the spring chill makes my hands too stiff to move.