The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-19 03:04:18 -

The Pale Bonsai

The letter lay on the table. It was white. Thick. Cold to the touch. Thomas held it. His hands shook. Not from fear. From cold. The house was cold. The fire had died. Ash. Grey flakes. The chimney breathed. A slow, wet exhalation. Outside, rain. Steady. Relentless. It beat against the glass. Like fingers. Like nails. Scraping. Thomas looked at the letter. He did not open it. He knew what it...

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