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The Silk Road
Category: Historical
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The end.