Phantom Pains
“When I grow up, I’m going to be an eagle!” chirped the child, “I’ll soar through the air with the planes we see every night.” The grandfather scowled, knocking the child away with a sharp jab to the shoulder. The child was unperturbed and swayed lazily to the rhythm of imaginary air currents, whistling to mimic the howl of wind. The grandfather swallowed the urge to give him another jab and turned away. The factory was bleak, the gas lanterns on the walls barely keeping the darkness at bay. Mesh cages, constructed from naked wires …