The Pale Bonsai
Chapter One "Does the iron remember the rust?" Neema Desta asked the radiator, which was knocking a rhythmic, hollow clatter against the wall of his walk-up apartment on forty-seven of the Amber Stair. He did not expect an answer. He was fifty-four years old, a border guard for the highlands, and he had only three days left before his mandatory retirement. The dream had come again, pale and...
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