Sunday, 23 October 2011

50) Waiting for lightning

Dear S,
    I didn’t complain when we buried that rotten apple under the full moon. I said it was never going to get hit by lightning. But you said it would help us live forever. I thought ‘What’s the harm? Maybe she just wants to do something together. It doesn’t really matter what it is.’ You were beautiful and crazy. I guess I was gullible and in love.
    I felt weird when you wanted to do that thing with the sheep, and now they all stay far away from me when ever I’m in the field again. It’s not like it was illegal or anything. At least you told me it wasn’t illegal. You didn’t tell me what you were going to do and I didn’t really pry. You said you grew up on a farm, so you knew what you were doing.
    I’m sorry I helped you up to the roof. I didn’t think you were going to jump off. I certainly didn’t believe that you could actually fly. I wish you would come back, but you said it was then or never, that I wouldn’t get a second chance.
    That apple we buried? There’s a sprout there today. I’m fairly sure it’s going to be a tree. But don’t apple trees need to be grafted to make edible fruit?


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