Fiction: The Pumphouse

Steve tapped the panel next to him and the wheel’s speaker started playing music with a steady beat, a little faster than he was running. He sped up to match it, and Horace started the timer.
There was a soft click as the drive mechanism shifted gears, pulling a little more power for the pump’s drive shaft. Horace walked around the wheel, stared through the clear casing of the gearbox for a moment, and crossed it off his list. He’d never seen anything wrong in a gearbox before, but following procedures to the letter was comforting. That aspect of the job was part of why he liked working there.
The Pumphouses stood fifteen stories above sea level, and brought water from the canals of New York City to a filtration system on the roof.
This is an excerpt from a short story for my patrons. If you want to read the whole thing, along with other exclusive content, you can sign up to fund my work at!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *