The Distant Joke

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2026-08-17 10:55:46 -

The Distant Joke

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended grey curtain that turned the London streets into a smear of wet charcoal and reflected neon, a world where the distinction between the solid ground and the slick, dark sky had dissolved into a viscous, indistinct murmur that seemed to swallow sound and shape alike. Thomas Bradshaw stood at the edge of the platform, his briefcase hanging...

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