The Distant Joke

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2026-08-20 02:58:23 -

The Distant Joke

The rain had not ceased in three days, a grey and relentless curtain that blurred the edges of the world against the high, damp walls of the monastery, where Brother Anselm sat in the deepening dusk, his hands resting on the worn wood of his desk, feeling the tremor that had begun to migrate from his fingers to his very bones. He was not a young man, nor was he old in the way the village elders...

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