Of Apples and Ignorance

[Charles]

Long ago, the farmer and his son planted seeds together, working beside the evening’s soft haze. The little seeds rained down on the damp earth, eager to burst open and meet the world. And when the farmer walked back to the old barn, bags dry and bare, one single seed fell out, the slender grass blades breaking his fall. Left and forgotten, he would listen as the farmer went out and watered his delicate little plants. And over the years, the trees got taller, darkening the orchard more and more each day, painting shadows in the child’s rooms, grumbling about the farmer and how he didn’t water them properly that day. They lost leaves together, while the farmer picked up their dead skin and his daughter danced around, singing to them, telling them how beautiful they were. And in vain, they agreed, boasting and bragging to one another. And they survived winters together, while the farmer warmed them everyday, staying with them through the frosty nights, clearing the snow from their unmoving beds. But despite the love and spoils from the farmer, the apples they dropped were ugly and rotten. Every year, the same apples would fall, leaving the farmer poor and tired. His family left him, his house fell apart, roof caved in, but he slept outside, still holding on to his dear trees. They laughed at him, mocking the slave that they had made out of him, and he wondered if there was even a good tree out there. But behind the barn, the single seed had grown. He endured winters alone, spent summer nights by himself, listening to the other trees laugh and play. His apples, though, grew red and ripe, dropping to the ground when they were ready, enriching the soil and feeding the peaceful animals, but the farmer never noticed, too busy tending to his trees. And one night, while the farmer was fast asleep, a storm blew through, thrashing his beloved trees. The barn and the house, both old and broken, were carried away in the powerful wind. And with a crack of lighting and a roll of thunder, the trees snapped, crushing the helpless farmer beneath them. Shocked and dazed, he awoke to see the tree behind the barn, strong and unmoved, towering above him. And while he took one last breath, a bright red apple rolled into his hand.

 

[lusira2bisai2]

painting shadows in the child’s rooms=uh-huh
"His family left him", then!="He endured winters alone"
this is so sad Charles!Of all the compo you posted in offtopicz,so far i believe this is the best.quick read.So touching...I wish I can post this on my profile as a favourite or something.Good work! "He endured winters alone"=again WOW.sniff

 

[lusira2bisai2]

And when I say quick read I do mean that no words are gone to waste.All is punched straight to the purkinje fibres of the heart.