The Pale Bonsai
Act I The heat in Oakhaven did not rise; it pressed down, a physical weight that made the air shimmer like a bad television signal. Faye Fenwick stood in the driver’s seat of her rental car, the engine ticking as it cooled, while the sun bleached the color from the retraining center’s sign across the street. She was thirty-two, an archivist by trade and a seasonal tax preparer by necessity, and...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews