S
Summer3ve
Guest
Original poster
The sound of the wind kept whistling through the small factory windows at the top of the thick stone walls. It was hard to believe that the outside was being filled with snow as the inside workers were sweating amongst the machinery and fabric filling the inside of the factory. The air was filled with that of smoke, odors, and small pieces of fabric. How anyone could stand in the mist of all of this was simple. It was the only job that was within the area and allowed for a constant and steady pay. No matter how bad the supervisors treated the workers or the conditions were.
Elizabeth Russell knew too well of this working world. She had been in it ever since her family came to the new world, America, when she was ten. Her family had worked in the factories back in England, and had hoped for a new and better life in the States. So far, it was failing to uphold its promise. Her body had multiple scars from the machines and the harsh hands and sticks of the supervisors from her childhood. Now she was the woman spinning the fabric and making it suitable for the sale throughout the nation.
Her hand wiped her forehead getting rid of the droplets of sweat that had beaded up. The loose strands of her brunette hair were sticking to her neck as she continued to add the cotton to the machine. The sound of the supervisor yelling at a few people a few rows up from her ran throughout the room. Elizabeth looked up and noticed a few men coming out and overlooking the factory room. Who they were, she did not know. She continued her work as she watched the men come down the steps and into the machines.
Elizabeth Russell knew too well of this working world. She had been in it ever since her family came to the new world, America, when she was ten. Her family had worked in the factories back in England, and had hoped for a new and better life in the States. So far, it was failing to uphold its promise. Her body had multiple scars from the machines and the harsh hands and sticks of the supervisors from her childhood. Now she was the woman spinning the fabric and making it suitable for the sale throughout the nation.
Her hand wiped her forehead getting rid of the droplets of sweat that had beaded up. The loose strands of her brunette hair were sticking to her neck as she continued to add the cotton to the machine. The sound of the supervisor yelling at a few people a few rows up from her ran throughout the room. Elizabeth looked up and noticed a few men coming out and overlooking the factory room. Who they were, she did not know. She continued her work as she watched the men come down the steps and into the machines.