I had just taken a crash course on Steampunk culture and was hoping to make a project that would appeal to the more mature Goth and Cyberpunk hipsters who were looking to purchase handcrafted items on Etsy besides watch part jewelry and steampunk goggles. The only literature I found was some Jules Verne-ish capers that could have been written by a 6th grader: no character development, absent POV and too much dialogue about fetish gear made out of copper tubing.

I had my main character, a portly matron in bereavement, recount the tale of her daughter, who meets tragedy through misadventure and a jealous husband. Gasp! Set in New York at the turn of the century this short short story reads like a diary entry and is supported by the images I found in the stash.