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The Silk Road
Category: Historical
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The end.