The Man Who Killed The Machine Short Story

Cyril twisted the lever a bit harder, praying the damn machine would work. If the bloody thing decided to stop working on his watch, it would mean a dock in his pay. He grunted and pulled the lever some more. He leaned back, putting all of his weight on the tool, praying it wouldn’t break off in the process. It was already rusted beyond repair, making it a miracle that the entire machine hadn’t just broken down. To Cyril’s relief, the lever started to turn moving just enough to relieve some of the pressure that built up. But it still wasn’t working.
Cyril leaned back and wiped the sweat off his brow. “What’s the point of mechanizing London if it keeps breaking down?” he said. He had tried everything to get the thing to work again. So he just

Machines traveled faster than horses, and made less of a mess. These new inventions could do more detailed work. So instead of a boss employing a bunch of people who could risk losing a finger or two, they could build a machine and only have to repair it occasionally. They could do more detailed work such as replacing bobbins so that children didn’t have to. It was supposed to be great. It wasn’t. Instead it just made the already hot workrooms of the past even hotter and stickier and got rid of a lot of jobs. Why have a line of humans rolling cigarettes when you could just have a row of machines? Machines didn’t tire, or get sick. Machines could do the work faster, more precise, and with less of a fuss. Cyril was lucky he was so good with machines, otherwise he would have been one of the many who had gotten

What’s going on?”
Jonathan hopped up on a table. “Come one, come all, let old Johnny tell you what’s going on in the world.”
He could barely be heard over the roar of the machines, and there was no one at this level anyways, so Jonathan was really only putting on a show to annoy Cyril.
“Get down here you twit, I can’t hear over the banging.”
Jonathan flashed Cyril a toothy smile and hopped off. “Well, since you asked so nicely. The American’s are making a mess of themselves, still. They’re fighting over slavery. South’s started drafting slaves just to boost numbers. Oh, and Duke Wyth is calling for women’s voting rights.”
Cyril couldn’t help but laugh. “Why? It’s not like women can understand politics. Besides, they’ll just vote however their husbands tell them so it’s not like anything’s really going to change.”
“I don’t know about that. Lots of ladies want to be able to have a say.”
“What’s next? Letting children vote? I don’t think any of my siblings have a good enough grasp of politics to vote.”
“You don’t have a good enough grasp on politics to vote,” Jonathan