The Distant Joke

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2026-08-17 23:28:20 -

The Distant Joke

The rain did not fall so much as it descended, a heavy, gray curtain that erased the distinction between the cobblestones and the sky, a persistent mist that tasted of iron and old stone. I stood beneath the eaves of the old guardhouse, my hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had long since gone cold, watching the water drip from the roof in a rhythmic, mocking cadence. It was the kind of...

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