The Pale Bonsai
The departure was not a scene of tears but of a slow, grinding erosion, a peeling away of the self like bark from a dying oak, as Major Elias Thorne stood in the center of the sterile, humming corridor of the Department of Anomalous Personnel and watched his life being packed into boxes that did not quite fit the dimensions of the room. He was a man carved from the rigid wood of discipline, his...
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