The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-24 18:31:28 -

The Pale Bonsai

Amsterdam in November was a city of damp rot and quiet commerce, the canals reflecting the grey sky like tarnished silver. The air smelled of coal smoke and wet wool, a physical weight that pressed against the lungs. Hillechien Schouten stood in the registry office, his fingers cold around the tuning fork that had belonged to his sister’s choir. He was a senior arbiter of the Ministry of...

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