The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-19 01:59:50 -

The Pale Bonsai

The air in the Atrium was stale, recycled through filters that hummed with a low, mechanical dread. I sat on the edge of the obsidian bench, my fingers curled around the small, ceramic pot. Inside, the bonsai stood rigid, its branches twisted into shapes that defied natural growth. It was pale. Not the healthy green of a living thing, but a chalky, bone-white hue, as if it had been drained of...

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