The Distant Joke

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 10:40:48 -

The Distant Joke

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a fine, gray mist that clung to the eaves of the manor and the wet wool of Thomas Ashworth’s coat. He stood in the center of the grand hall, a room so vast that his voice, if he were to speak, would be swallowed by the silence of the dust. The air smelled of damp stone and old paper, a scent that had settled into the bones of the house long before he...

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