Flash Fiction
Sweet Red Berries (Bisexual Flash Fiction)
Do you remember how we touched?
The sun was hot, the air so thick that summer. I was barely sixteen, you were nearly seventeen, an age in teenage years, and yet we fit together.
In the August heat, we hunted wild red berries by the lake, hiding in the leaves, plump and heavy. We dipped our bare toes in the cold water and ate our sweet plunder, our fingers sticky and red. I started to lick my fingers, but then you caught my hand and sucked the juice off me, and my face went as red as my fingers.
We tasted berries on each other’s lips like forbidden wine.
I was strawberries, peeking out from hiding, so sweet upon the tongue. You were raspberries, full and rich and bold.
Do you remember how we dove into the lake, shrieking at the shock of cold? I couldn’t take my eyes off you, dripping wet and laughing on the dock. We lay in the sun for just a moment, then rolled into the grass together.
Do you remember how we touched? In the shade of the raspberry canes, while the lake waters lapped upon the shore, we found new adventures in each other. I can still taste your honey on my tongue.
