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Letters to Juliet
Category: Romance
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The end.