Apples for days

 My Mom was off and down the hillside before anyone could say her name while I stuck to the heels of my Dad. We plucked at the trees beside whiny, sulking children while listening to the impatient, coddling parents pick their way through. We jumped down deeper to the less handled trees and seemed to find solace from the aikey frustrators, picking super red apples and listening to nothing but the sounds of our own hands. Today was a good day.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s