Yellow sat under the shade of a bearded tree watching the gator taking its time near the shoreline. She wore a dress made of an old fabric called Dotted Swiss that she’d found in the church bin. A party dress for a happy day.
She’d been crouched there for awhile now. The calves in her legs were beginning to complain but she wasn’t ready to leave just yet. A bead of sweat formed between her shoulder blades and made its way down her spine and she shivered despite the heat.
She enjoyed watching the gator. If he knew he was being watched he gave no indication. He moved with a malevolent grace in the rusty water. He was king here and it was good to be king.
She was remembering the first time Roy Brown had called her Yellow. He said the name suited her, “Yellow Brown, piss and shit, good for nothin’ and a relief to be rid of”. And then he’d laughed. But he wasn’t laughing now.
The gator glided toward her and opened its mouth wide. The arm floating in the shallows disappeared with a satisfying crunch.
“My name is Grace,” she said.