The Distant Joke

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2026-08-20 07:35:33 -

The Distant Joke

The mist clung to the iron rails of the northern line like a wet shroud, swallowing the headlight of the locomotive whole until all that remained was a single, blind eye staring into the void of the night, and within the cab, Sergeant Elias Thorne sat with his hands locked around a small, clay pot that held a single, pale orchid, its roots tangled in soil that smelled of distant rain and decay,...

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