The Distant Joke

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 09:06:39 -

The Distant Joke

The rain does not fall so much as it is extracted from the air, a fine, persistent mist that clings to the wool of your coat and seeps into the joints of your fingers, cooling the blood until your pulse feels less like a heartbeat and more like a slow, mechanical ticking in the hollow of your throat. You stand in the doorway of the workshop, the heavy oak door swollen with damp, looking out...

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