The Pale Bonsai

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 18:21:16 -

The Pale Bonsai

The hall smelled of roasted boar and wet stone. You stand in the center of it. The floor is cold. Your boots are heavy. The silence is thick. It presses against your ears. The candles burn low. The shadows dance. They look like hands. They reach for you. You do not move. You are still. You are stone. The King sits on the high throne. He is old. His face is a map of wrinkles. His eyes are small....

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