Cold Wind Blows
Over time, Annalise’s garden filled with abandoned cars, bicycle frames, rusty signs, and naked bedsprings, and her summerhouse surrendered to snakes and ivy. Dwindling, she remained.
The door whined as the little girl pushed in.
“Chloe!” a man shouted.
The girl flinched. Her head whipped around and eyes filled with tears.
“Run away,” Annalise whispered.
Chloe shivered as if she’d heard and lisped, “He finds me.”
“I have to go!”
Chloe whirled and ran. The man appeared amid the debris, grasped Chloe’s arm, and jerked the girl along at his pace.
Annalise sighed, cold as a cold wind blows.
Friday Fictioneers: 100-word stories
photo prompt: Sarah Potter