The Pale Bonsai

hat ein neuen Blog hinzugefügt Literature

2026-08-20 05:21:35 -

The Pale Bonsai

The wind tore at my coat. It was a cold, wet thing, smelling of rot and diesel. I held the bonsai tight against my chest. Its roots were black. They bled into my wool sweater. I could feel the pulse of it. A slow, sick throb. Not my heart. The tree’s. "Let it go, Silas." The voice came from the mud. It was Mrs. Gable. She stood there in her yellow raincoat. Her face was a mask of wet clay. She...

0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 11 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen