An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

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Re: An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

Postby blindbowlingclub » Wed May 04, 2011 9:24 am

This is my first go so I've tried to just write and then stop at 750. I almost got to the end, maybe in another 250. Oh, well. Maybe next time then.

Sat in the dark there is an excitement starting to go around the bowl. The time is getting close but as dawn starts to break through the kitchen window there is a real buzz around the place. The morning ritual will soon begin. Whilst the lady of the house prepares the packed lunches for the day all of the fruit will take a deep breath, puff out their pulp in the hope that they’ll be picked today. Geoffrey knew the procedure better than most as he had been there longer than the rest of the fruit, which he knew, deep down in his pips was a bad thing. He’d seen a lot of fruit come and go and was starting to accept that he might not get picked and that his days might end with him sat at the bottom of a dark, stinking, rubbish bag, ending his days slowly rotting away with only a teabag and a half-eaten sausage for company. And to think that when he had been a young fruit still on the tree that there had been such high hopes for him. With such a lovely blush red skin and beautiful pulp he’d been destined for greatness. It had been expected of him. Work hard and he could’ve ended up in any pie in the world. Any pie he had wished for. If he’d worked really hard he might have made it into a cider. Not one of those cheap ones that hobos drink but a real classy cider. One that would’ve made them all proud. But he got in with some bad apples. Some real rotten ones. They affected his skin and pulp until one day, before he’d really reached his full potential he was picked. Not by the best as everyone expected but by the local supermarket, not giving a toss what they took. In his stalk he knew that from that moment the dream was over. The others with him we’re not the kind of apples he’d been used to hanging with. The limit of their ambition had been to be a Fast Food apple pie or at best, a cordial. A cordial God Damn it!! They we’re bruised and from the wrong side of the tree. Now all he could aspire to was being some kids afternoon snack. It was like winning the lottery for the other but not for Geoffrey. But since the moment he’d been plucked out of the crate he’d been in and taken home with 3 other apples he’d really tried to get up for being a lunch apple. He’d tried as hard as he could but he couldn’t help feeling jealous when he saw the man of the house reaching into his fridge for a cool cider and pouring it over all that lovely crystal clear ice, the lucky bastards! But even the lunchbox dream was starting to fade now. He’d been here longer than the all the other fruit and was too long in the stalk to know that he was going to end up in the lunchbox. Nothing but the scrapheap beckoned from Geoffrey.
In the bowl was Geoffrey, another apple called Tyler, 3 bananas called Huey, Dewey and Louie and an orange called Millicent. There was something special about today, they could all feel it. Geoffrey had told the bananas that he’d heard whisper from a packet of hotdog buns on the counter of a barbecue. That could mean a fruit salad which really excited the young bananas. Getting themselves all brown and mushy with a load of strawberries and raspberries, the dirty minxes. Geoffrey couldn’t be doing with all that and he was almost certain that a load of young ripe fruits would not be interested in an old apple like him. Maybe the odd Blackberry but that would be all. They didn’t have to wait too long to find out. As the lady of the house took a knife out the drawer, a large bowl from the cupboard it was clear that a salad was to be the way he went. As the Strawberries appeared from the fridge he thought the bananas were going to peel themselves they were so excited. One by one the strawberries were sliced and put in the bowl along with the bananas and some tasty looking raspberries and blackberries. Despite the tough skin he could tell Millicent really didn’t want to go with them, it wasn’t her thing at all. But they needed a little experience in there to calm the place down so she put on her waxy peel and went in gracefully.

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RE: An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

Postby tyorker76 » Wed May 04, 2011 12:47 pm

This is definitely the busiest room in the house. All seven of them walk by at least 7 times a day. My favorite one, the girl, always has another little one strapped to her front with this red strappy thingie. She is my favorite because she never eats so I am not afraid of her. She just cleans something or grabs something for the light box and hurries away.
The small boy, now he is very different story. He does the most god awful things to my basketmates. Just yesterday morning I saw him stabbing at an orange with a pencil. It was as if he had no mercy. Just in and out with a pencil for no apparent reason. After stabbing the poor orange about 20 times he just stuck his fingers in the hole until the girl rushed in and snatched the pencil and orange away. Last week I saw him dragging a chair over to the counter, then his little head peered over the ledge. The entire basket community was trembling. Suddenly the boy reached out and grabbed a banana, peeled it and returned the banana to the basket naked. We all felt ashamed for that banana. It was hours until the girl came by and removed him. It was such awkward situation for all of us. One just never gets that boys angle.
Each day I pray that the girl grabs me on her way out when she is dressed in her suit and carrying a briefcase. Rumors have it that is the best possible future for any of us. Apparently she takes you to this place called the office and offers you to someone else and you become part of a new family.

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RE: An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

Postby JBG » Wed May 04, 2011 4:10 pm

When I took this assignment I did not anticipate sitting in a fruit bowl for over a week. Commander 663 insisted that I would go unnoticed while completing my mission in the form of a red delicious apple. "You'll be a hero" he told me as he sent me and the others to the dying planet Earth.

As I watched the humans pass by the counter where I was positioned, I was feeling weaker and weaker as each day passed. I felt myself dying as my bruised flesh began to decompose. Commander 663 insisted that humans ate an apple a day in order to maintain their health. I was beginning to question his research methods.

I must be consumed by Human #1 in order to get my strength back and complete my assignment. I've spent a lifetime in training in order to save this planet. I must be eaten before the next war starts in three days.

As night fell on day 8, I felt my life force begin to shut down. Commander 663 will send another to take my place, but it will be too late.

In the darkness, I could hear footsteps approaching me. I observed the refrigerator door open and in the light I saw him reaching for a carton of milk and then pouring the contents into his mouth. He returned the carton to the refrigerator and gazed in my direction. As the door closed, he reached out to me and plucked me from the bowl. The kitchen had returned to darkness and he apparently failed to notice my detriorating condition.

He held me in his hand as he exited the kitchen, tossing me in the air as he walked. It wasn't long before his his white teeth ripped into my flesh and chewed large chunks of me. As he swallowed I could feel my strength returning and within seconds I had taken over the human's brain and body. Time to save planet Earth.

I walked down the hall to the room I had been programmed to locate. As I entered, I heard the Secretary of State ask "Mr. President, did you enjoy your snack?"

"An apple a day." I nodded.

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RE: An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

Postby putercrone » Wed May 04, 2011 6:10 pm

By Leslie Carter

If Karl, the banana, continues to rest upon my stem, it may be damaged. I could lose my perfection.
I’m a wax apple and proud of it. Fresh fruit is over rated. I’ll never rot. And, I’ll never be eaten. I only require dusting and an occasional rearrangement of my comrades and I when the table has been jarred.
Today is laundry day, the mother will be busy until the light begins to wane. It will be evening when we are moved to the buffet. We have a much better view from there and the oppressive sun can’t reach us.
There are eight of us in the fruit basket now. We started out with twelve, but over the years we’ve lost many. The purple and green grape vines were murdered. A small boy snapped each grape off the vines and threw them in the garbage destroyer. The big brown cat they call, minor, tried to eat a plum, but left it regurgitated on the nappy rug under our dining room table.
Ginger, a granny apple, rolled off the dining room table last week, when no one was watching. She landed under the built-in dish cabinet in the corner, way back in the deepest shadows. She may never be found. Her green color made my red skin appear autumnal and I’ll miss her.
The pear on the other side of the basket has an adventurous bent and he may someday join Ginger.
I feel a little off today. We’re not centered properly on the lace doily. You may not be aware of this, but in my own small way, I run this basket. The nectarine thinks she does, but she’s wrong. Just because she’s the oldest, having come from a previous basket, doesn’t give her the right to rearrange us at her whim.
Oh, wonderful, the mother is moving us to make way for setting the table. I’ll be able to check on the robin that has been building a nest just outside the bay window. No, where is she taking us? Back, take us back to the buffet! Oh, someone save us. I’m falling. I’m going down through bubbles and into hot water. No, no the water is too hot! Someone has played a cruel joke on us and we’re melting, melting…

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Re: An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

Postby ivancal1 » Thu May 05, 2011 6:14 am

I am an apple and I have a worm inside. I come from a prestigious family of apples. Have you heard of Eve, Robin Hood, Sir Issac Newton?. They interacted with my ancestors. But I am a bad apple and have a worm inside. Now a hand takes me, a mouth bites me. The worm is bitten. The rest of me is thrown away, I am flying fast, I will hit the wall and become an uncooked apple and worm pie.

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Re: An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

Postby jody222 » Thu May 05, 2011 10:02 am

You bit me then you left me.

You left me in the bowl.

Where is your mother when we need her? Why do you do these things?

I've got a mind to scream at you but I'm an apple unable to do the necessary scolding.

Little girl you've got me upset.

Now the fruit beneath me is getting all wet!

Come back here, finish me off.

Put down your playdoh...hey, cover your mouth when you cough!

I'm full of vitamin C. Come and get me!

Here comes your brother he's decided to eat me.

In this bright sunny kitchen, I've spent a few days.

The fruit bowl was nicely basked in rays.

Once round and juicy, now thin and crispy,

I'm a core to be planted

Out the front door he carries me

A flick of his wrist

And I'm launched...weeeeee!

Behind the old fir tree I've come to rest

If I'm lucky I'll grow, I'll learn from the best.

Surrounded by the forest I've got some hope

Let my seeds drop to the ground plant themselves in the soil

Perhaps someday I'll see that young girl again from the branches of my spoils.

By then she'll have grown much taller

A woman all her own

She might have kids to feed and love

And I'll drop some apples from above.

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RE: An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

Postby jody222 » Thu May 05, 2011 10:06 am

RE: The story where the president eats the apple...

cool, funny, I read this and you know, I've been working on a story where beings are entering our bodies through our weird you did the same sort of thing here!

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Re: An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

Postby rosebud » Thu May 05, 2011 3:40 pm

What a beautiful day. Sun shinning through the kitchen window, the cool breeze blowing through the well ventilated room. Who could ask for more? Here I sit between the peanut butter and the honey on a smooth granite counter, just waiting my turn on the chopping block.

Here comes the lady of the house to fix a morning pot of coffee. Will I be next? I’d be great for breakfast. Oh no, cereal again. Well, she is dressed for a run. Maybe a snack is in order for later.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. What is that awful sound? Why couldn’t she leave the radio on for the dog again? Oh, that’s right, the dog went with her.

Wow, the minutes seem like hours, and that sun is shinning directly on me now, not a good thing. Uh oh, here come the kids. Doubt that I’m their first choice for a snack. Yep, there they go for the chips and soda.

“Hold on there kids,” Mom insists. “First a healthy treat, then the salty stuff. Let’s all share one of these fresh juicy apples.”

Here she comes for me now. Scooping me up and placing me on the chopping block is a little scary, knowing what comes next is the real fear. The blade is shinny, and I can see my bright red reflection. Hope it’s sharp enough to simply glide through my crisp, delicate skin.

The first cut slides through smoothly enough, as do the following slices, eight in all. She arranges me on a plate with a scoop of peanut butter topped with honey in the center.

“Here we go kids, let’s all dip this instead of the chips,” she said cheerfully.

Each one grabs a slice and dips me into the honey-coated peanut butter. I’d tremble at the sight of teeth if I could move. Mom takes the first bite. The last sensation I feel is the gentle massage of chewing molars.

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Re: An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

Postby kcoutlaw » Thu May 05, 2011 4:16 pm

The light shone hard against the red linoleum floor littered with rubbish. Food from last week still lay unattended against the cold floor. Splatters from last week’s dinner have crusted over and she won’t be able to remove them for another week. Yet, the pots on the stove glisten in the light like jewels. It shouldn’t be so surprising; the dishes are always clean. That’s because he washes the dishes while she does nothing more than cook.
They were both out late last night. Their mistake, considering we have new neighbours; a group of mice have begun to arrive. It wouldn’t be so bad if my family and I weren’t left in this wicker basket, on the counter, exposed to a filthy kitchen and all of its elements. Luckily, before the mice had a chance to get in close, they came home and turned on the lights. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything move as fast as those mice, well, except the cockroaches.
It wasn’t always like this. We didn’t always live in this depressing house with these piercing lights that even give us headaches from time to time. I grew up on a farm with an orchard. I started at the very bottom, like we all do. What I remember most about those days was the warmth of the sun and the comforting feel of the earth wrapped around me. And then my memories begin to fail me. I remember hating rain and the thickness of the air that it brought, because suddenly my world was heavy with despair. I remember achingly hot summers as my skin shrivelled and pulled away tightening every inch of my being. Out of nowhere, the memories begin to loop and repeat.
Some days I wonder if these memories are mine after all. Perhaps I’m trapped in some vicious cycle, some demeaning world that produces me and my kind for mass consumption; that my life, from beginning to end, plays on repeat. I just can’t shake the feeling.

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Re: An Apple's Point of View - 5/3

Postby Neets » Fri May 06, 2011 3:28 am

I miss the wind, the gentle rain, I miss my mother.

The sun, so delicious, the light warm, nourishing.

There is no sun, this is my tomb, no earth, no hope of bringing life to another.

There is no air, I cannot breathe, I am covered in a coating that will cause my death.

Please release me from this torture, please consume me now.

I comfort myself with my memory of the bees and their songs of love.


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