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The apple of my eye

Updated: Apr 11



Writing prompt number 10 – 20 January 2021

Same procedure as last year: 15 minutes of writing prompted by a teabag proffered by Jane Davis. Please see previous posts for details.

Apple

The apple lay heavy in her hand. Red and shiny, she could smell its tart taste. Saliva gathered in her mouth as she thought of biting into its tight, gleaming skin. She held it cupped in her hands and glanced up to see a large black bird perched in the upper branches of the tree. She hesitated, then lay back onto the soft, warm earth at the base of the tree, feeling the slight dampness of the grass still. Gazing up at the sky, she thought how differently things could have been.


A sudden squawking made her jump and looking up, she saw a smattering of feathers float gently down to where she lay. She looked at the apple in her hand and peered closely at a small blemish near the bottom. Putting a finger over to cover it, she considered how perfect it was. So round! So shiny! So temptingly delicious! It seemed almost to be calling to her.


She carefully placed the apple on the ground and closed her eyes. Minutes went by. No sound disturbed the stillness. Nothing moved. It was as though time had stopped and she was frozen into being the last person on earth. She let her mind drift and remembered the surprise she felt as the juice of the apple slowly ran down her chin. She recalled the stickiness of her hand as she wiped it away - a moment of utter perfection.


A sound behind her made her turn her head and as she looked up at the man towering above her, she said, ‘I've got something here for you, Adam’.



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