Flower Flurry — a flash fiction story inspired ‘On Beauty’ by Zadie Smith

It happened in the garden behind the church. Between the roses and the giant daisies. Ciara watched the sky as he moved above her, its blue broken by a shiver of canary yellow, a flash of tongue red. He crawled to a stand; trousers gathered at his knees, zip half up and half down.

“That was good”, he said as the onions on his breath wafted into her nostrils and made her gasp.

“You too?” he declared, mistaking her revulsion for pleasure.

She nodded and felt the trickle between her legs, the him coming out of her.

“Maybe we’ll do it again sometime,” he stated as if it was a foregone conclusion.

Ciara closed her eyes and heard him go, his feet grinding across the gravel. She breathed softly and unremembered him; the onions, the half-zip, and tried not to think about why she always felt lonelier after each flurry in the flowers.

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