A Crime Thriller Work in Progress Ch. 5
John stopped on the side of Highway 65 north beside a wildflower patch. The flower shouldn’t have been there in winter, and they looked out of place set against the brown grass and dead branches scape scraping together like bone.
A warm front head blown across the state and settled in for two weeks, fooling the flowers into budding.
They would be dead soon, and John wanted to take a minute to look at them.