V’s sitting on the sidewalk in the sun, headphones and cut-offs, and she smiles at you, cigarette in one hand and a big paintbrush in the other, dripping yellow.
“It’s a warning,” you say.
She lifts it to the door of the sky blue bug and pulls out petals, stretching glorious to the handle, the wheel well, and the broken mirror from a perfect oval of shiny black seeds with a tiny white dot on each one and a ladybug the size of your fist right where he took the baseball bat to it.
“No,” she says. “It’s a flower.”
---
'The Sunflower' was previously published on A Story in 100 Words on 3 December 2019.
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