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The Dragon’s Hoard
Category: Fantasy
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 stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
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.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The end.