The Distant Joke

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2026-08-21 19:11:40 -

The Distant Joke

The rain had stopped, but the air still tasted of wet iron and decay. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the moor, his boots sinking into the sucking peat. He did not look back. To look back was to admit he was leaving something behind, and Elias had not left anything in ten years. He had only arrived. The village of Blackhollow lay behind him, a cluster of stone and slate that seemed to lean...

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