55 Fiction

55 words. One story.

Let's see.

She sits by the well waiting for husband. He stumbles in, bloody eyed, past gate, toward her. Cursing her with his hands. She’s motionless as his fists break her. Calmly, she ties the stone to her pallu, swings, brings it crashing down on his feet. As he hops, she walks in and bolts the door.