The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-22 09:03:34 -

The Pale Bonsai

The Pale Bonsai sat on the breakroom table, its fleshy leaves turning a translucent, sickly white under the fluorescent buzz, and it whispered to me, Elias Thorne, that my pension was a lie, that the actuarial tables I had spent nineteen years perfecting were merely a sophisticated way of burying the living, and I stared at the plant, my coffee growing cold in my hand, while the digital clock...

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