The Pale Bonsai
The pot was cracked. A thin line ran from the rim to the base, like a scar on pale skin. Leo held it in his hands. His fingers were cold. The dirt was dry. He looked at the tree. It was small. The leaves were white. Not green. White. Like bone. He walked. The road was long. The sun was low. The dust was thick. He carried the pot. He carried the water. He was tired. He was hungry. He did not...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 10 Visualizações 0 Anterior