The Distant Joke

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 23:25:56 -

The Distant Joke

The hall was dim. Candles guttered. Shadows stretched. Long. Thin. Like fingers. They clawed at the walls. The air was thick. Heavy. It smelled of wax. And old wool. And wine. Spun into the dark. They called it a feast. But it felt like a trap. Elias sat at the head. He was old. Not dead yet. But close. His face was a map. Lines deep. Etched by wind. And time. He did not eat. He watched. The...

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