What if...

Her boots squelched in the thick mud. Chores sucked. Chores in the dark, before sunlight dusted the horizon, sucked worse. 

Wheezing breaths rasped into the chilly air. Asthma be damned, she worked hard collecting eggs from hens that pecked at her hands, feeding pigs that squealed like her nightmares. 

Each crack of the axe thundered across the misty hillside. Out here, at least, she was free. Alone. Safe.

She glanced toward the log cabin. Water pipes rattled. He would be showering, waiting. 

The feed bucket fell to the ground.
A stray thought, uninvited, danced within her mind.

What if she didn’t…