The Pale Bonsai
The weight of the pot is the first thing you notice, a dense, cold gravity that pulls your fingers into the soil as you lift it from the cellar floor of the University of St. Jude, the damp air thick with the smell of rotting oak and old ink. You are Elias Thorne, forty years old, a man who has spent two decades building a cathedral of footnotes to keep the chaos of the world at bay, and in...
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