The Pale Bonsai
The first thing Margaret Holloway lost was her shadow. It happened during the Tuesday council meeting, a long, fluorescent-lit purgatory where the air tasted of stale coffee and impending obsolescence. She was standing at the podium, the leather strap of the microphone digging into her palm, while Director Alistair Thorne sat behind the mahogany desk, his fingers steepled in a posture of polite...
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