The Pale Bonsai

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 00:14:20 -

The Pale Bonsai

The banquet hall hums. It is a low, mechanical thrum. Like the vibration of a turbine. You sit at the head of the long oak table. The wood is dark. It is polished to a mirror finish. You see your own face reflected there. It is small. It is pale. You are the Architect. You hold the plan. The plan is heavy. It is made of glass. It is fragile. You grip it tightly. Your fingers are white. The...

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