The Distant Joke
The rain on the windshield of the patrol car was a gray curtain, blurring the headlights of the town square where the harvest festival lanterns were just beginning to glow, a warm, deceptive promise against the cold night air. You are Elias Thorne, thirty-four years old, a border patrol officer with twelve years of service etched into the lines of your face, and you are driving toward the...
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