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The Silk Road
Category: Historical
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.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
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.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The end.