The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-25 17:49:56 -

The Pale Bonsai

Act I My hands were already in the soil, pressing the damp earth into the roots of the pale bonsai as if I could squeeze life back into the wood, and the smell of wet clay rose from the pot to mix with the stale air of the room where Signor Morosini lay breathing shallowly in the bed by the window. The tree was my penance, a small, twisted thing I had found in a market three months ago, and I...

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