The Pale Bonsai
The bonsai was dying, and Captain Elias Thorne knew it with the same cold, clinical certainty he applied to the diagnosis of a fractured femur or the necrosis of a gangrenous toe, yet he could not bring himself to look at the blackened, brittle needles that clung to the gnarled juniper as if they were the last, desperate grasps of a drowning man’s fingers, for to look at them would be to admit...
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