The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-21 19:16:17 -

The Pale Bonsai

The table groaned. It was a oak slab, scarred by decades of knives and spills. We sat around it. There were twelve of us. We ate. We drank. We laughed. The laughter was too loud. It bounced off the high ceilings. It stuck to the walls. It felt like oil. I looked at Margaret. She was cutting her meat. The fork made a scraping sound. It was a high, thin note. It cut through the noise. I focused...

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