The Distant Joke

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2026-08-19 09:44:07 -

The Distant Joke

The rain in the city of Oakhaven did not fall so much as it hung, a gray curtain that smelled of coal smoke and wet wool. It was the kind of weather that settled into the bones, turning the joints stiff and the spirits low. Twelve-year-old Thomas Ashworth stood at the edge of the platform, his fingers white-knuckled around the strap of his satchel. He was not looking at the train. He was...

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