From the day
Perspective: The Future Historian · Tactile
The grit of my heavy wool trousers chafes against my skin as I lean over the workshop bench, fingers tracing the strangely slick, transparent rustle of a new **cellophane** wrapper. It is a marvelous, crinkling barrier, far smoother than the rough cardstock of the **Rook** deck I tossed aside after realizing only a **chump** would bet on such a predictable hand. I look out the window, imagining a world soon choked by the precision of the **Ford Model T (Assembly Line)**, while the faint ticking of a **Geiger counter** in the laboratory next door signals a future we aren't yet prepared to touch. My hands, stained with the ink of the morning's wire investigation reports, feel the heavy, cold weight of the metal age pressing in.