The Pale Bonsai
The sentence is pronounced before you have time to flinch. The Warden stands at the head of the table, his face a mask of bureaucratic indifference, yet his eyes hold a strange, vacant curiosity, as if he is watching a beetle crawl across a pane of glass. You are not there to speak. You are there to be judged, though the nature of the crime is never fully spelled out, only implied by the weight...
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