The Distant Joke

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2026-08-19 15:23:35 -

The Distant Joke

The iron gates of the monastery had not opened for a decade. They stood like the jaws of a silent beast, fused with rust and time. You stand before them, your cloak heavy with the damp of the autumn valley. The air tastes of wet stone and decaying leaves. It is a smell that clings to the back of the throat. You are not here to pray. You are here to listen. Your name is Elias. You have spent...

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