The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-18 23:15:47 -

The Pale Bonsai

The air in the conservatory always tasted of wet limestone and old dust, a scent that seemed to seep into the marrow of my bones. I sat on the worn velvet bench, my hands resting in my lap, watching the single bonsai tree that occupied the center of the room. It was a pale, whitish-green thing, its branches twisted in a way that defied natural grace, looking less like a plant and more like a...

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