There it was. Third window from the left, five floors up. The white lace curtains still hung down from the silver rod like a veil concealing the treasure behind it.
He could still see Larisa standing there that day eight years ago. He’d turned back one last time and cast a glance up toward her window. She stood, curtains parted, looking down at him with a look that sent shards of longing and remorse through his heart. Yet he’d gotten in his car and driven away. Continue reading “Third Window from the Left”