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The Italian Affair
Category: Romance
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The end.