The Iron Weight of Memory: A Story of Rusted Metals and Forgotten Men
CHAPTER 1: THE FRICTION OF IRON The bare aluminum tube of the left forearm crutch lacked its rubber shoe. Every three feet, when his weight shifted forward, the raw metal bit into the grease-yellowed linoleum with a dry, screeching shuck. It was a sound that set teeth on edge—the small, violent friction of things wearing…