The Pale Bonsai
The branch snapped before you did. It hung from the pale, skeletal bonsai in the corner of Director Halloway’s office, a brittle twig the color of old bone, trembling in the recycled air of the fourth floor. You watched it fall. It struck the mahogany desk with a sound like a dry finger cracking, landing beside the "Green Legacy" policy proposal you had spent three weeks finalizing. You did not...
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