The Distant Joke

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2026-08-18 21:08:02 -

The Distant Joke

The iron chafing dish sat on the hearth, its surface pitted by decades of soot and neglect. I stared at it, the metal cold and heavy against my palm, a dead weight in a room that hummed with a silence so thick it felt like water. Outside, the rain lashed the stained glass of the keep, blurring the world into a smear of gray and indigo. I was tired. Not the kind of tired that sleep cures, but a...

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