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Crown of Thorns
Category: Historical
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The end.