The next morning was terrible, in terms of temperature. For the past few days, every weather reporter had warned that this day was going to be the worst of the summer, then assured everyone it was going to get better from there. Wes, and nearly everyone else in the area, eagerly awaited those promised cooler days. For the time being, the sky was a bright and blinding blue, not a cloud in sight, which meant no relief from the bombarding heat of the sun. Wes undid all but the two bottom buttons on his shirt and went to work.
“Flowers for sale!” he called with a dry mouth. The air was laced with dust kicked up from the parched ground. Wes coughed, took a sip from his hip flask, and called again, “Flowers for sale! Marvelous flowers that will never wilt nor fade, not even in this heat! Two do
