She leaned into the bathroom mirror, smearing on eyeshadow, the one that he loved best. She stood back, closed the box, checked her hair and shook her head to let it fall right. She smiled at the mirror. What she saw was cracked and dirty. She stopped smiling.

Today was St George's. The whole village was out celebrating. It gave her daughter an excuse to spend more time with her beau. Her daughter hated her. She reminded her of what she would become. She hated seeing her alone. It reminded her of what she could expect. The face she saw in the morning was cracked and dirty. She recognised it as her own. Destiny can be patient. Inevitably, her now would turn to then.

Someone watched her from the bridge as she tilted her head forward and vomited into the river. She had this feral way of roaring when she did. The bile burned her throat. Tepid beer flowed out of her mouth and trickled out of her nose. She could taste the blood sausage and onions she had had after the parade. She heard laughter on the other bank. Below her, the lights from the fair shone on the water, their reflection echoing on across it.

She drew in her breath as she drew herself up. She spat into the river and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. From where she was, she could still hear the music and the laughter from the fair. She didn't look back. She just walked away, into the darkness, leaving the lights and the laughter behind her.

The stall lights illuminated the night sky. A dam roared in the distance. In the summer, tourists came to see it. They liked the view of the valley. They rented cabins. She walked towards the sound of the dam and crept up to the edge. From where she was now, she could no longer hear the laughter. The night was cold, so she flipped up her collar and pulled up her hair, casually throwing it back to let it fall right. She stood there, staring into the darkness below.

Her eyes searched the darkness. She tried to swim to the edge, but her clothes clung to her body, pulling her down, into the water. The current pushed her away from the edge. Water flowed into her mouth and trickled into her nose. She vomited, into the river, cried out, then laughed (she knew he was watching). Water lapped at the riverbank. Clouds hid the moon.

She floated, dressed in the river, eyes open, no smile. She knew she was alone. She closed her eyes, saw the car parked in front of the trailer. She leaned into the mirror, smearing on eyeshadow, the one he loved best. Someone watched from the bridge. She called out his name. Above her, the moon shone down onto the water, its reflection echoing on across it. Someone watched from the bridge. Water lapped at the riverbank. She floated, dressed in the river, smiled with her eyes closed, then let herself slowly sink in. Clouds hid the moon.