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About a person who starts the story by thinking about an apple. |
An apple. It is red, hard, and its fragile skin will fall apart without a lot of work. I think to myself, "How in the world am I like an apple?" Earlier in the day I had been described as an person who is like an apple. The person who described me as this didn't know me very well and I had never been described as an apple before. Despite those facts that would usually make me dubious of my being appleish, I was still thinking about it. I walk over a puddle and see the sky reflected on it. I wondered if I could see my self in the cool, blue pool of rain. I also wondered if I would see how I am like an apple if I look into the pool of water. I look down into the water and am greeted by my framiler face. I quickly slide my gaze across my lips, slightly chapped with the winter air; my nose, red with cold; my eyes, glistening with unqunched curiosity and worry. I see nothing like an apple in my reflection. I hear someone walking towards me and I lift my gaze, just a couple of inchs. I see black leather shoes peeking from under maroon pants. Maroon pants. I wonder "Do apples come in maroon?" Thats when I truly realized that I was stuck on apples, and how they relate to me. The man must of realized that i was staring at his shoes and pants and stopped infront of me. I looked up and greeted the man, who was old enough to have graying hair and smile lines, but young enough to not have sagging skin and a lack of hair. The man greeted me back with a simple nod and a smile. He then continued walking and I did the same. I walked past a puddle and a tree. Several cars sped past me before I met my destination. It was a store, with an empty parking lot. Directly inside lay a display of apples, in all colors, falling down the color scale from red to green. I buy one in every color and leave the store. I walk back past the tree and to the puddle of blue rain. I circle the puddle with the apples and stare at it. I felt very silly for doing this, but now it would give me something to ponder about in the lonely hours of one am to four am. I also decide to put my worries away, to think of them later in those warm comfortable hours of free time to think. |