The Pale Bonsai
The frost has not yet claimed the glass, but it is gathering at the edges of the world, a creeping white that mirrors the pallor of the skin on your hands. You are Elias, forty-two, a structural engineer who once calculated the load-bearing capacities of skyscrapers with the precision of a surgeon, and now you sit in the greenhouse of your late wife’s estate, watching the concrete floor beneath...
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