The Distant Joke
The rain had been falling for three days, a cold, persistent sheet that turned the mud of the road into a thick, sucking paste that clung to our boots and slowed our march to a grinding crawl. I walked beside my brother, Thomas, our breaths rising in thin, white plumes before us, dissolving quickly into the gray mist that hung low over the valley. We were men of the King’s guard, or so the...
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