The Distant Joke

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 10:34:35 -

The Distant Joke

My hands were already black with ink when I reached the top of the sixty-three Tannery Steps, the ledger heavy and wet in my grip, the paper soft as rotting fruit. I had been walking for three hours, the fog in Khorramshahr eating the sound of my boots so that I moved through the world like a ghost, unable to hear the life I was carrying. The ledger was sealed for General Rostami, who had...

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