The Distant Joke
The rain against the window of the break room sounds like a slow, rhythmic knocking, a persistent request for entry that the glass refuses to grant. You sit at the far end of the long, scarred table, your hands wrapped around a mug that went cold an hour ago. The coffee has turned to a dark, bitter sludge, mirroring the taste in your mouth. Across from you sits Elias, his tie loosened, his...
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