Fine Apples

Inspired by the 11th labor of Hercules

Have you ever wanted something that didn't belong to you? I have. I really should not have taken them but I could not resist. The orchard was small and the fruit smelled so sweet. I could not stay away. The farm was neglected. The house was practically falling down. The farmer, or perhaps better stated as the occupant, cared a great deal for his trees. Warning signs were three fences deep around the orchard, "Do not enter. Unsafe area!"

I thought it was because he didn't want to share his fruit. That was not really a plausible conclusion though. He never picked so much as one of the amazing fruit. He just let them fall and rot on the ground. The only thing that ever ate them were deer and other wild animals.

The day I hopped all of the fences and stole an apple was the worst day of my life. I plucked the reddest most juicy looking apple. I meant to take it home but the smell got to me and I took a bite right there in the orchard.

I felt a little funny. The apple fell to the ground. My muscles all began to feel stiff. I couldn't help myself, My arms reached for the sky. My fingers branched out wildly. My toes broke through my shoes digging into the soil. I was rooted to the spot. My legs grew together, extending as a trunk up through my body.

Life as a tree is not so bad, but I wish I had listened to the warning. It is not fun when the foxes pee on me.