* Author : Matt Dovey * Narrator : Louise Ratcliffe * Host : Matt Dovey * Audio Producer : Devin Martin * Discuss on Forums First published in Writers of the Future volume 32, May 2016 Originally aired as PodCastle 427   Originally aired as PodCastle 427 Rated PG-13 Squalor and Sympathy by Matt Dovey Anna concentrated on the cold, on the freezing water around her feet and the bruising sensation in her toes. So cold. So cold. So cold, she thought. A prickling warmth like pins and needles crackled inside her feet. It coursed through her body to her clenched hands and into the lead alloy handles of the cotton loom. Each thought of cold! kindled a fresh surge of heat inside and pushed the shuttle across the weave in a new burst of power. Anna’s unfocused eyes rested on the woven cotton feeding out of the back of the machine. It looks so warm. The constant clacking of looms that filled the factory changed tempo, quieted slightly. Anna glanced to her right, where Sally White worked. Sally was standing, her feet still in her water bucket, and talking to herself. “Sodding thing, gone and jammed on me again. No wonder I can’t meet numbers.” She was peering into the loom at where her shuttle must have caught. “Here, let me help.” Anna took her bare feet out of the bucket and stepped over. Her own shuttle slowed and stopped as she released the handles. “You can’t, Anna. If Shuttleworth sees you’ve stopped work, there’ll be hell to pay. I’ll get it sorted. Don’t you worry about me, you look after yourself.” Sally’s fingers were deftly picking at threads of cotton, darting in and out like a chicken pecking for seed. She had good reason to be so delicate: when the jam cleared, the tension in the threads would launch the shuttle across the loom, even without power, and any fingers in the way would be ruined. “Don’t be daft,” said Anna. “It’ll take no time with two of us.” She tucked her dark hair behind her ears then reached in and held the shuttle, letting Sally unpick the knots and tangles more easily. “Oh you’ve a good heart, you have, Anna. I do like you. Ain’t many folk like you around no more. The world’s a selfish place these days, and always looking out for itself. I’m glad you’re in it to look out for others still.” Anna stared up at Sally. Her hair and skin were so pale as to be almost white, especially in the weak sunlight of the factory. She was only twenty-two, Anna knew, only five years older than Anna herself, but she looked worn through, like milk watered down too thin. “Why don’t you say something about this shuttle?” asked Anna. “It’s near worn out!” “I can’t say owt about it. If I say I need a new shuttle, it’ll get docked from my pay, and I can’t afford that. I’m already having to work double shifts since my George shipped off to India with the Company. A new shuttle’d cost me a week’s pay, and I can’t have my Charlotte going hungry all that time, little angel.” Sally unpicked the last knot and pulled her fingers back quick like. Anna released the shuttle and it flew across the weave, sliding to a rest. “She not old enough to earn something herself, yet?” asked Anna.” “My Charlotte? Oh no, not yet. Well, I mean, she’s five now, and I hear they’re using kids that young down the lead mines ‘cos they scare easier at that age.