The Distant Joke

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2026-08-19 13:20:14 -

The Distant Joke

The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray weeping that turned the courtyard of the Blackfriars Priory into a mirror of the bruised sky. Inside the refectory, the air was thick with the scent of wet wool, damp stone, and the metallic tang of old blood. Thomas Bradshaw sat alone in the corner, his back against the rough-hewn wall, his eyes fixed on the floorboards where the...

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