The Distant Joke

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 07:10:23 -

The Distant Joke

The fog rolled into the valley like a slow, grey tide, swallowing the stone walls of the abbey until only the high windows glowed with the amber pulse of candlelight. I sat alone in the scriptorium, the smell of vellum and iron gall ink thick in my throat. My hands, stained to the wrists, trembled as I held the quill. I was a scholar of the old ways, a keeper of words that had outlived the men...

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