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A Kiss in Paris
Category: Romance
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The end.