The Pale Bonsai

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 01:03:02 -

The Pale Bonsai

The train hisses. Steam bleeds into the grey morning. You stand on the platform. Margaret is gone. She took the last car. You took the first. The distance is small. The silence is vast. You are a man who hears the hum of wires. You are a man who sees the ghosts in the iron. The company calls this a skill. They call it efficiency. You know it is a curse. The tracks scream their loneliness to...

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