Lorenzo never considered himself connected with the gentle notion of "home," but every time he faced life and death only to see Old Dunling again, he felt a strange sense of familiarity, akin to returning home.
The machines worked tirelessly, the fire roared in the furnaces, rain poured into the channels, finally returning to the Thames River.
Even this damned rainy season couldn't stop the society from moving. Umbrellas gathered into rivers, threading through the city's streets, the Iron Serpent swam like a fish, advancing with the sound of steam whistles, or opening its doors amidst the surge of steam, releasing countless people like mermaids leaping out.
