The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-19 11:27:43 -

The Pale Bonsai

The rain fell in sheets of iron. It hammered against the leaded glass of the tower. Margaret stood at the window. Her hands were bare. They were stained with the red of the pomegranate. She held the fruit in her left palm. It was heavy. It was warm. The juice ran over her fingers. It dripped onto the stone floor. The stone was cold. The juice did not soak in. It pooled. It spread. It formed a...

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