The Distant Joke

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 19:54:45 -

The Distant Joke

The rain did not fall so much as it invaded, a grey curtain that erased the horizon and turned the moor into a soup of mud and heather. I was losing the thread. My left boot was soaked through to the skin, the leather soft and weeping, while the right remained dry, a cruel asymmetry that made every step a negotiation with balance. I held the scarf. It was a thing of heavy wool, dyed the deep,...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews