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A Kiss in Paris
Category: Romance
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The end.