The Pale Bonsai
The pot was heavier than it looked, a slab of glazed ceramic that felt cold and slick against Elias’s palms, the surface sticky with a residue that was not quite dirt. He stood in the center of the estate sale, the air thick with the smell of damp carpet and old tobacco, surrounded by the chaotic inventory of his grandfather’s life, a house that had been gutted and stripped down to its bones....
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