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Under the Tuscan Sun
Category: Romance
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The end.