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Saturday, September 29, 2007

How the Apple Fell (far) ------------ (a bit of prose by shegufta razzaque)

On one spring day, pollen was in the air.
And there were two young intertwined apples trees that were in the midst of the orchard on a hill, on the very top of the hill.
Sure enough, by summer, a little apple had started growing. It was small and green, and unaware of its flaws.
This in and of itself was amazing, because this pair of trees had had an apples almost spawned before, but alas, it was cut off, in winter, before it fell.
And they wished for another, and what they got was a one single apple. It fell from the tree one month before harvest season, and when it fell, it hugged the roots of its parents.
But there was a wind - a fateful wind that fall season - that would not hold a cool breeze but a curse. And so the branches of the two trees start disturbing harmony, moaning, screeching, and drifting apart. Their roots began to unravel, and loose. And so the young, still slightly green, apple fell out from its bed in the roots. As this event continued to occur, the apple slowly rolled farther and farther down the hill, for the roots ran deep, and the wind was harsh this season. They whistled of hate and past times and against other trees (they particularly didn't like the oranges, who they believed were innately sour and thus "bad").They howled about way they were once entwined (but no longer), and how they reached the top of the hill, and how sick they were of each other. The little apple, distraught by the events, was afraid. It was afraid of falling out of the orchard. It was afraid of rotting. It was afraid of growing up to be an apple tree in that orchard, for it did not want to be like the trees that once held it. So for a while, the apple wished to rot, and wanted to fall out of the orchard, maybe to live in another. But then winter came early this year, preserving it in its un-rotten sweetness, at least for the season. Sure enough, the winds didn't stop, and neither did the trees. The little apple looking on couldn't escape, frozen in this pandemonium. And then spring came, and it began to thaw. While the weather was still cool and crisp, one unnaturally strong wind flew in, and the apple began to roll. Down the hill it went, far from what made it. Those two trees will always have been the young apples parents. And the apple will miss them dearly. The apple was destined for a different life, far different than the bittersweet story of the year before. And although it will live in the same orchard, and will always be an apple, to grow up to be an apple carrier of its own, one might still say that in this story, the apple did indeed fall far from tree.

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