The Distant Joke

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2026-08-20 03:16:37 -

The Distant Joke

The coat was red. Not a bright, screaming red, but a deep, arterial crimson that had faded at the elbows and sleeves to the color of dried blood. It was a heavy thing, wool and velvet, smelling of pipe tobacco and old rain. Elias had not worn it in six years. He had left it on the hook in the hallway of the house in Prague, the house that was no longer there, the house that had been reduced to...

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