The Distant Joke

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 06:56:26 -

The Distant Joke

The bristle of the brush snagged against the wood grain, a rough, fibrous resistance that pulled at the wrist. I stood in the narrow alley behind the tannery, the air thick with the stench of lye and rotting hide, and tried to keep my hand steady. Rain slicked the cobblestones, turning the gutters into dark, oily rivers that reflected the single gas lamp hanging from the eaves. In my other...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews