The Pale Bonsai
Chapter One The town of Khor Virap held its breath under the greenish light that precedes a hailstorm, a landscape of peat bogs and burning stumps where the farm belt had long since emptied out, leaving only the church basement and the sonar shack of the old submarine depot to mark the passage of time. Mirsada Petrosyan, forty-two, stood at forty-two of Candlewick Row, her hands raw and...
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