Ponytail The Love for Revenge

Today a year has passed since I last saw Tapasya. I can still remember the night she left me and this house. She had found lipstick stains on my shirt. She was livid and wanted an explanation. Even I had not noticed the stains-they were not even real lip marks; just lipstick stains! I had no idea where the stains came from. My explanation apparently did not work.’ It was just a lipstick stain, not even lip marks, and I did not know where it came from. “I don’t know where the stain came from.” I replied honestly.

“I am getting out of your life and your home. Now, never try to talk to me without having a strictly professional reason. I don’t want to share any future dreams with you anymore.”

Before I could stop her, she left the home. I tried to call her but could not reach her. The next evening, a local inspector called me to identify a dead body they had found floating on the river front. 

The body was decomposed but it was unmistakably her–the tight ponytail and large eyes. The face was swollen and blue as if she was still angry with me. Her eyes still seemed to be crying. It seemed she had drunk lots of water to cool her anger down.