Blood and Roses
· Alessia DeLuca & Production Syndicate · 5 min read
At eleven o'clock on Thursday night, an eerie, dead silence hung over the sprawling industrial labyrinth of the Red Hook maritime terminals in South Brooklyn. Massive gantry cranes loomed against the black sky like prehistoric iron beasts, their shadows stretching across acres of stacked intermodal shipping containers. The pungent smell of salt water, diesel exhaust, and raw grain filled the freezing harbor air. Beneath the main fuel transfer manifold at…
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