As the sun dropped toward the horizon, the trees cast long shadows on the pond. Chances are it would be days before anyone passed this way again. The leaves on the trees had turned from green to yellow, indicating that the swimming hole would be abandoned again until next summer.
The woman’s body was barely visible as it slowly sank into the depths of the water. He hadn't wanted to do it, but she wouldn't shut up; she wouldn't stop nagging him about getting a job. He’d spent two years sending out resumes and pounding the pavement. Finally, his spirit had been broken and he’d turned to alcohol for comfort. It deadened the pain, but didn't silence her. Every day, she had harped on about it; he was drinking too much, he should be looking for work. Over and over again he’d warned her, hell, he’d begged her to stop. She just wouldn't let up. Finally, he’d lost it and grabbed her by the throat. It had been quick. He just wanted her to shut up. No one would believe it was an accident.
They had no friends in the area; no one would miss them when he moved south. By the time her body was discovered, he would be far away. Having strangled her, he’d used his lit cigarette to blur her finger prints. Yes, it would be a long time before they found her and even longer before they identified her; by then he would be far away.
If you enjoyed the above, you might enjoy the short novel I wrote and published on Kindle called "Welcome to Singles Night". Click on the link to learn more.
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