The Distant Joke
Chapter One "Item 7: Heirloom, Brass Key, Status: Stolen."‌​⁠⁠‌‌‌​​‌‍⁠⁠​‍‍‍⁠⁠‌‍​‍​‍‍​​​​​​​​​​​​​​‌‍‍‍‌​​‌‍‍‌‍‍‍‍​⁠​​‍⁠‌⁠‌⁠​‌‌⁠‍‌​​​ The ledger line was printed in red ink, a stain against the grey paper of the quarantine notice. I sat in the staff canteen, the broken jukebox humming a low, static-filled note that vibrated against my ribs. The air smelled of damp wool and the ozone tang of the...
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