What will the neighbours say?

This is the last straw for Mary.
He knows it, too.
They stand there anyway, the semblance of innocence.
It won't last.
Word gets out like it always does.
Even when nobody ever says anything.
People used to smile when they walked by.
Now, steel eyes send shivers.
Still, they stand firm.
She smiled actually, once.
It was like a rainbow under a waterfall.
Not built to last.
Words aren't spoken in this house.
As if meaning didn't matter; only doing.
The turning over of hay.
Until the last straw.