The Distant Joke

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2026-08-21 09:34:35 -

The Distant Joke

The rain in Ashworth had a weight to it. It did not fall; it pressed. It hammered against the slate roof of the university library, a rhythmic, heavy thud that Marcus felt in his teeth. He sat at a desk near the window, the glass fogging up, obscuring the grey street below. His hands were trembling. He had been holding a quill for three days without writing a single word. His sister, Elara, sat...

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