Pink Flowers

Microfiction

Pink Flowers by Jim Latham | Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

The old man leans forward, chair creaking, bony hand beckoning. “C’mere, darlin’.”

My bare feet grip dogwood roots.

A too-white smile. Sweat dripping from his forehead.

Summer’s hot breath slips between my knees. Pink flowers wilt on overheated concrete.