The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-21 09:23:01 -

The Pale Bonsai

The branch snaps. It is a thin, brittle sound. You feel the vibration in your teeth. The air is cold. It is the kind of cold that settles in the lungs. You are running. Your boots slap against the frozen earth. The forest is a blur of gray and white. You do not look back. You know he is there. You know the horse is there. You know the men are there. You are not running from the trees. You are...

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