The Taste of Freedom

First time alone and I’m scared. My smudged necklace winks in the crusty glow as I skirt these narrow alleys. Apple cores litter one doorway, green and red and mottled. Granny Smith, too bitter. Red Delicious, too soft. The third, like baby bear’s chair, is my favourite.

Outside, the approaching dawn unveils a world of hazy, muted tones.

“Ain’t I seen you someplace?” A man squats. Greasy spots swoop in like hyenas before the kill. “Hey, Larry! Ain’t this that rich lady’s cat? The one we’ve seen on the billboards?”

I know when to make my escape, but not before I grab that pomme, that elegant, sumptuous Pink Lady.

 

Copyright © 2015 by Emily Clayton
Originally appeared on Micro Bookends:
http://www.microbookends.com/2015/05/07/micro-bookends-1-30-first-micro-lady/#comment-4297

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 )

Connecting to %s