The Distant Joke

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2026-08-19 08:05:08 -

The Distant Joke

The sword was heavy. It was always heavy. It sat in the corner of my chamber, propped against the damp stone wall. I had not touched it in three days. My hands shook. Not from fear. From age. The joints in my fingers had become knuckles of rough bark, stiff and unyielding. I looked at them. They were the hands of a man who had held a hilt for forty years. Now they were the hands of a man who...

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