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The Last Crusade
Category: Historical
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
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.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The end.