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Crown of Thorns
Category: Historical
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
A knock at the door changed everything.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The end.