The Apple

The Apple

Tib looked up at the sky. The clouds were moving quite fast, and getting darker around the edges. He tried to remember what that meant, but the information didn’t seem to reside in his brain anymore.

Shaking his head he walked on. Growing up was certainly not as much fun at eight as it was at four. Suddenly people were expecting things from him, actions that required thought and work. But today, he only had apples on his mind.

Not exactly apples, one apple. It was growing on a tree near the fence, next to the sidewalk he had to walk every day to and from school, he had been watching it grow. He considered it his apple.

He had been thinking it was almost ready to pick. It was not in a bunch like some others, just hung there, alone, next to one perfect leaf. Sitting, waiting for him to pick it, he was sure. Today he was actually going to try picking it, though actually it belonged to crabby Mr. Andrews.

As he came up to the fence, he slowed down. Mr. Andrews, was there! Tib slowed down. As he watched, Mr. Andrews took a small silver knife out of his pocket, and in an instant he cut the apple off the tree! Tib almost swooned! His apple! His perfect apple! Slowly he began walking again, unable to even look up.

Suddenly there was a shout! “Hey kid! Look up!” he did.

Mr. Andrews threw the apple right at him, he caught it!

“Have it at lunch!” Mr. Andrews yelled, walking away laughing, as a silver bolt of lightning shot through the sky.

Yes, Tib thought, he was definitely going to think more in the future, he didn’t understand anything that just happened, but he did like it.