Skip to content
Letters to Juliet
Category: Romance
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
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 end.