Gear Well

Night brought coolness across the steel post. Below the crank handle, the protective sheet-metal cap of the gear casing sat tilted, unlatched at its base. I inspected the narrow vertical opening. Two fingers wide. Perfect entry. I lowered my legs inside, sliding my ribcage between the cast bevel gear and the outer wall. Solid iron surrounded me on four sides. Near my foot lay a sheared steel gear tooth, chipped from an old overload. I picked it up. Slow motion. I pressed its flat face against the internal drive shaft and let it snap back. Ting-clack. A dense, enclosed percussion reverberated through the iron tube straight into my pelvis. I leaned into the grease groove and rested.