The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-17 19:23:27 -

The Pale Bonsai

The bus smells of wet wool and diesel. You sit by the window, watching the rain streak the glass into a blur of grey and amber. It is a Tuesday. It is always a Tuesday in the Department of Behavioral Compliance. You carry a small, ceramic pot in your lap. It is warm to the touch, though the air conditioning in the vehicle is set to a shivering cold. Inside the pot, a bonsai pine grows. It is...

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