The Distant Joke

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 15:01:48 -

The Distant Joke

The mud at the northern checkpoint was not merely wet but a living, sucking thing that pulled at Anouk Vasseur’s boots with a tenacity that felt personal, a grip that refused to release the leather even as the automated gate hissed and failed to open for the convoy of refugees she was ordered to turn back. She stood there, her rifle raised but her finger hovering outside the trigger guard, the...

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