From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Sight
The morning light catches the flash of a newsboy’s banner—*Cholera on British Steamer*—and my stomach turns tighter than the corsets on those girls in their silk bustles. I clutched my nickel bread tighter, dreading the day prices hike even higher while the sickness rolls in with the tide. Back home, the men are distracted by that blasted Rook card game, shouting over the table as if a deck of paper birds matters when death is at the docks. Any chump can see the city is holding its breath, even as the electric toaster hums a tune of progress we can't afford.