The Pale Bonsai
The building on Vesper Street was a relic of the pre-war era, its limestone façade chipped and weeping with moss in the humid air of late September. I had been assigned to it by the Municipal Preservation Board, a department that operated with the detached efficiency of a machine designed to file away history rather than preserve it. My name is Elias Thorne, and for the past six weeks, I have...
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