The Creek Didn’t Rise
by Melanie Brown

In a shotgun style house (some people call it a railroad flat), I miscarried our child.
The landlord visited and told us we better start washing our dishes, that he didn’t want any bums living on his property.  In our grief however, one room looked just like the next.
From The kitchen, I could see all the way to our front porch.
I cried as I tucked away the tiny clothes and soft blankets.

You told me you were going to kill the landlord, but I didn’t believe it.

We tidied our shack. I busied myself with canning some peaches. I watched out the window as our landlord again walked up to our porch. I saw you make a fist as you opened the door. Soon after, the landlord on the ground, and you were punching him hard in the face.

“What are you doing?” I screamed, but I didn’t try to do anything.

“Go back inside” you said.

I wasn’t thinking straight and you weren’t either. The man was whimpering and you told me to stay inside.
I wiped sugar across my brow and sat down at the kitchen table.
I watched you drag him toward the shed. I could have saved his life but I didn’t.
I sat there frozen, staring at the canning jars, the sweat under my arms soaking through my dress.
A half hour later you returned. You told me we were going for a ride.
I brought along some of the canned peaches and a spoon.
We drove past the school building, and you parked by some brush near the creek.
You didn’t say a word, but looked at me with sad, empty eyes. I touched your face, and noticed the grey forming around your temples.

You dragged the landlord’s body down to the water.
It was the end of summer. The creek didn’t rise but the dragonflies were swarming.
I opened the jar of canned peaches and ate a spoonful.
I looked at the bloody trail on the dirt, and thought about how the landlord was right about the dishes.

Cleanliness is next to Godliness

BIO: Melanie Browne is a co-editor at Leaf Garden Press.Her work can be seen in various e-zines including Word Riot, Madswirl, Commonline, and Houston Literary Review. She has work forthcoming in Yellow Mama and Breadcrumb Scabs. Her first Chapbook, Heaven is a Giant Pawn Shop, is published by Erbacce. She lives in Texas with her husband and three children.