The Distant Joke
The rain did not fall so much as it descended, a heavy, grey curtain that erased the horizon and turned the cobblestones of the old port town into a slick, reflective mirror of the bruised sky. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the pier, his coat soaked through to the skin, the water running in rivulets down the back of his neck, a coldness that had nothing to do with the temperature and...
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