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The Silk Road
Category: Historical
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The end.