The Distant Joke

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2026-08-24 08:18:32 -

The Distant Joke

The bill lay on the desk, the ink still wet, smelling of iron and stale coffee. You read it three times, your fingers tracing the line for the debt owed by your late father. It was a modest sum, enough to keep the mill running and your name clean. You looked up. Mr. Vane stood by the window, his back to you, watching the soot drift down from the chimney. He turned, and his smile was a thin,...

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