Love is a reflectionby
greenglobusComment by K3Master: For years she had dealt with all that he had to give. The abuses, the yelling, the burning, the hitting. For years she had lived under his tyrannic rule. Held under the threats and the insults and the... but she couldn't think of what the worst had been. Not even now. Not even in her time of triumph.
For one day, while he beat her again for a perceived slight against his manhood, she had discovered something. Something that lay dormant deep within here. Something that had suddenly woke.
In her pain and her tears and her tortured embarrassment, frustration, and anger, it had been borne upon her without warning. It had seeped from her very thoughts, and the photograph of him that she had been staring at, on the bedside table, had suddenly melted into a greasy liquid ash before her very eyes. She had blinked in sudden shock and surprise, but then it hit her. She had done that. Her.
It was then that the plan of her revenge and liberation was set in motion, and for the next few weeks she was the perfect wife. She did everything he asked, without fail, without protest. She cooked him his favorite meals. She opened to him in bed in his favorite... but that was not worth thinking about. In the end, she had won him to her side, if briefly, and by some small miracle he had agreed to the walk on the beach that day.
Now, she stood there, a feral grin on her face, and a wild and liberating madness in her eyes, as she watched the glasses that had, until a moment before been set upon his face, slowly sank into the grime on which they lay. Grime that had been, just a moment before, her evil abusive husband. She had finally done it. She was finally free. She was finally rid of him and every horrific thing that he had stood for.
She stood there and watched as his stinking and slime ridden remains soaked into the sand of the beach...
... and she laughed.
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