The Apple I Never Ate
The warm afternoon wind blows gently across my clean fresh skin, greeting me like a letter sent from a loved one. As the wind continues to blow, I think that perhaps such a magnificent day is preparation for my ascent into heaven. But no, not quite. Simply a magical day in an animated afternoon.
I continue to walk along and I remember weather of similar sunny afternoons, watching my mother hang white sheets out to dry in our back yard. The green grass there was a bit too long and thus created the illusion of my mother's legs rooting themselves into the ground. The sheets would blow in the wind as if rebelling the act of clothespin imprisonment. However, my mother stood firm. She knew what was best for those sheets, bearing the occasional slap in the face with a determination to fulfill her mom-chosen fate.
As I played in the grass, I attempted to unroll myself like the newly laid carpet on our dining room floor. When that didn't work, I returned my gaze to the task of sheet drying and surrendered my thoughts to that plebeian moment, when the entire universe was mom hanging sheets in the wind.
A tree branch snaps at my face and brings my attention back to my walk. Now, I begin to wonder if I am on the right path. Some of the surroundings look familiar, sort of. Up ahead, I notice that there is an apple tree. Approaching it, I see that only one apple remains on the tree; a fruit picker's oversight. It bobs in the breeze, greeting me with delight. This is a most beautiful apple and would certainly make a fine tart, but being not particularly hungry, I continue on. Then I wonder, what if nobody else comes along - what will become of this beautiful apple? At that point I turn around to go back and out of the corner of my e I see it falling to the ground. The apple lands softly, as if being careful not to bruise itself. I pick it up and admire it from the point of view of ownership. It is a most beautiful apple! I put it in my backpack and continue on, knowing that someone along the way will want it.
Up ahead, I see the beginning of the trail, my point of origin. I am glad to have returned from my journey and I am also elated to know the incredible beauty of the apple I never ate.
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