Roger was fucking her best friend. That explained so many aspects of Marge's actions lately. Dora had never been a morning person, nor had Marge, it was one of the reasons they got on so well, only lately Marge had still been in bed when Dora called, even at two o'clock in the afternoon! Marge had laughed it off as staying up extra late, around the same time Sylvia had started acting weird too. Now Dora realized the part-time maid had been giving her looks of pity the last few months. Why hadn't the woman said anything to her?
Dora could make her life miserable, and would too! That wetback little bitch, letting Dora sit there in her friend's house chatting oblivious to the fact that her husband's cock had been in her friend's…Dora broke down and started to cry, she knew that it was not Sylvia's fault, still she was not ready to give Roger the full blame for his infidelity yet either.
No, Dora thought about all the long talks she had had with Marge lately, discussing his renewed sexual interest and hearing her respond with girlish laughter. That absolute bitch! Dora's crying turned into a snarl of anger, she tilted her head back to scream, however her howl of rage turned into a muted scream of pain as she moved her neck.
"Oh, that hurts!" she whimpered out loud. She slowly lowered her head to a more level position and turned her body to look around. No help had come while she had been standing there. She rotated her neck around, trying to find out where it hurt and how far she could safely move it.
Dora looked at the woman on the ground closer. There was a lot of blood, the woman's head and face were a disgusting mess of spaghetti sauce, with some wrinkly gray stuff and sharp white bits of bone here and there.
"Disgusting!" Dora said out loud. There was no way that the woman was alive. Where was everybody? Another car should have been by at least, everything was quiet and calm. Dora knew she should wait for the police, no matter what the dispatcher said.
Dora received a text message from Marge, it was short, "Call me beotch." Somehow using the pet name only infuriated her more as if that would be possible. The bitch was sleeping with her husband and wanted to maintain the masquerade? Fuck her! Dora almost threw her phone into the street in anger, but held herself back at the last second. She had the feeling she would not be able to get a new phone by simply walking into a store today.
Slowly putting her head and shoulders back into the car Dora opened the glove box and pulled out a small box filled with wet wipes. She then got down on her knees and proceeded to clean her face off using the wipes and the side mirror on her car. The bleeding from her nose had stopped and there wasn't any bruising so far as she could tell, just a lingering redness, one that showed in her eyes from crying too. Her shirt was ruined, the blood from her nose had made a mess of it and for a moment she didn't know what to do about that. Then she remembered her gym bag in the back seat, after a quick search she found it wedged under the front seat on the floor and pulled it out with a couple of tugs.
Unzipping the black bag revealed her gym clothing. They didn't smell too bad either, Dora thought she had only worked out in them once since she last washed them. Pulling out her workout t-shirt she held it up to her own bloodied shirt to compare them. The gym shirt was in far better shape. Dora slowly moved her head around to see if anyone was watching, when she saw no one she carefully pulled her shirt off and then put on the one from the gym bag. Checking herself in the side view mirror one last time she was happy with the results, she didn't look like an accident victim anymore, just a local yahoo out for a stroll.
There was nothing else Dora needed out of the wreck, so she picked up her purse and turned back to the road. She could still not see any cars or people, she was in a bit of a valley here and she expected to have a better view when she reached the top of the hillside at the end of the street. There were three very large houses along each side of the street on the way up, but they all looked empty.
'Another sign of the recovering economy' Dora thought, which brought her a snort of derision, 'sure we've recovered from the recession.' The house whose fence she had run over also appeared abandoned, Dora almost approached it, just to see if anyone was home. She took a step towards the house and she immediately changed her mind, the place was old and creepy, no one lived there, she was sure. Ignoring the freshly cut grass which contradicted her logic, Dora backed out of the yard and started walking for home.