The Pale Bonsai
The coat had been waiting for him on the hook for three days, a heavy, charcoal thing that smelled faintly of lavender and old smoke, and it was the only thing in the apartment that did not seem to belong to the man standing before the mirror, a man whose reflection looked back with an eyes that were not quite his own, eyes that held the weary, sharp intelligence of someone who had spent a...
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