The Distant Joke
The fire started in the basement, a slow, hungry thing that ate the insulation and the pipes before it ever touched the wood of the floor. By the time Elias Vane climbed the stairs, his hands still black with soot from the extinguisher that had failed, the air in the living room was thick with the smell of burning plastic and old wool. He stood in the doorway, looking at the charred remains of...
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