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The Silk Road
Category: Historical
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
A knock at the door changed everything.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The end.