The Pale Bonsai
Act I "You can't eat the ink, Vesna," the Abbot said, his voice flat against the stone walls of the dormitory. "It is not food."‌​⁠⁠‌‌‌​​‌⁠‍⁠‌⁠‍‍​‍‌​‌⁠⁠‌‌​​​​​​​​​​​​​​‍​​⁠⁠‍‌‌⁠​‌‍‍‍‍​⁠‌‍​‌‍​‌​‌⁠⁠​​‍⁠‌‍ Vesna Gelashvili did not look up from her work. She was twelve years old, her fingers stained black to the knuckles, and she was trying to finish the Psalms before the winter solstice. Her...
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