The waiting machine
It stood there, in the corner of the room gathering dust. Its glimmering black had faded, as rust consumed its interior. It remained exactly as it was left, 75 years ago. Waiting to finish the job it had started.
The old sewing machine was Martha’s prized possession. She had been the first in town to possess one, and people would travel for miles to have their outfits sewn on that very machine. That’s how Martha met Spencer.
The day he went off to war, she began sewing a dress to greet him with on his return. It was never finished.
Also part of Friday Fictioneers