The Distant Joke

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2026-08-20 06:44:40 -

The Distant Joke

The iron gate of the Blackwood Manufactory shrieked against the cobblestones, a sound like a dying animal, as I slammed it shut behind me. The rain was not water; it was a fine, cold dust that settled in the creases of my wool coat and stung the bridge of my nose. I stood in the center of the courtyard, the wet stone slick under my boots, and looked up at the towering brick face of the factory....

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