The Distant Joke
The rain fell on the roof of the inn in Blackwood with the persistence of a debt that could never be paid. It was the kind of cold that settled into the marrow, a physical weight that made the bones ache with a dull, rhythmic throb. Elias stood by the window, watching the water streak the glass, blurring the world outside into a smear of gray and brown. He had come to this place seeking the...
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