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Sword of Destiny
Category: Historical
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The end.