The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-20 20:42:57 -

The Pale Bonsai

"Did you eat?" The question hung in the air, brittle as ice. Silas stared at the bowl. It was white. Ceramic. Chipped at the rim. Inside sat a mound of grey sludge. Meat? Maybe. Or perhaps it was only the memory of meat, dissolved into a slurry of despair. "Eat," he said. His voice was a rasp. A dry leaf skittering across pavement. He lifted the spoon. The liquid trembled. It caught the light...

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