Not Eve’s Eden

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And so it begins…

Did you use to be a gymnast?
Are you a dancer?

No.
No.

You must be really strong.

YES.

You’re nothing like a pear.
More like…

…An apple.

Indeed.

Honeycrisp.
Bittersweet.
Delicious.

My silent smile suppresses the retort trying to trip off my tongue.

In the stillness, the seed of newly unearthed knowledge takes root;
the one who crafted that characterization craves
nothing more fruitful
than
to
take a bite
of temptation.

© Mrs Fever – Temperature’s Rising

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