The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-21 18:12:29 -

The Pale Bonsai

The fire started in the breakroom, eating the synthetic carpet with a hungry, orange hiss, and by the time I reached the exit, the smoke had already turned the air into a thick, gray soup that tasted of burnt plastic and old regrets. I remember thinking, quite calmly, that if this was how I was going to die, at least I had managed to keep my tie straight. It was a small, absurd thought, the...

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