The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-22 09:38:45 -

The Pale Bonsai

The rain drummed against the single pane of the fourth-floor window, a rhythmic, industrial hammering that matched the ticking of the clock on the mantel. You stood in the doorway, your coat dripping onto the warped floorboards, your hand resting on the hilt of the shears tucked into your waistband. The air in the apartment was thick, stagnant, smelling of coal smoke and the sweet, cloying rot...

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