The rusty water ran swift and cold. As red as rooibos, the creek reminded her of the bloody rinse that flowed from her washtub after she scrubbed Hector’s work clothes clean.
After the first, long-ago night that he came home covered in violence, his expression was enough to forbid any questions. Since then she went about her chores silently, leaving his fresh laundry folded and stacked on his dresser each morning.
Standing on the sandy bank, she watched the golden fall leaves float by on the current. Without removing her clothes or shoes, she waded into the creek until she was waist deep in the water. Lying back, her hair fanning around her face, she spread out her arms, allowing the water to carry her body along with the other debris.
The red of Hector’s gore leached from her spattered blouse and blended with the tannins, disappearing with her down the rusty water channel.
Thin spiral notebook 
That was cool, I like how you used one of your own photos as inspiration for the post – or in connection with it, or whatever it was you did there, it was cool. 🙂
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Poor woman; what a tragic and sad ending! I wonder if she saw it coming. Great story.
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I love that such a short story carries so much meaning.
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I was so caught up in the story, sad life. The end came too quickly. For her and myself.
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Wonderful, complex story, with dual meanings everywhere. Excellent work. Thanks for sharing.
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oh my! This is amazing! She is finally free. I could feel her relief.
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Provocative
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this was just great… the picture like an Ophelia dissapearing is great.. the hair the blood… yes this is very good.
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TARA!!!!! okay – I love this – love the fact that “she” is unnamed – that is an awesome thing. I love that Hector got it in the end. 🙂 Well done.
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Great story. I love the doubles in it – the killing, the washing, the blood.
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