The Distant Joke
The chandelier above the long mahogany table flickered, a dying star trapped in glass, casting prismatic shards of light across the faces of the guests who sat in rigid, polite silence. You are sitting at the far end, your back to the door, your hands folded in your lap like a prayer you have long since ceased to believe in. The air is thick with the scent of roasted pheasant and the sharper,...
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