Death of an abusive relationship, an abusive husband.
Relief. Guilt. Fear. Freedom.
It rained. On the banks of the river, she stood. The rain washed away her sindoor. The river washed her sins.
Together they washed away the proof that he ever existed. The past never happened. She was lost in the crowd.
Ps: I was trying to make a short story of less than 100 words and then Pretty Me wrote something of 55 words and I challenged myself and this is the result :)