2452. The last apple

You see that single remaining apple on my apple tree? The apple tree is right next to my boundary fence. There used to be two apples but now there’s only one. I know perfectly well that the neighbour reached over with the help of a garden rake and pinched the second to last apple. The neighbour is obese in the extreme. I wish he’d fallen off the ladder and broken his neck. Not that I wish ill on anyone.

Those last two apples I was going to share. I was going to eat one myself and then by dividing the other into slices I was going to give bits of it to Perseus, my canary. Perseus is yellow, sings like a trooper, and loves apple.

Now that the neighbour has selfishly pinched the second-to-last apple and presumably scoffed it down I’m at a loss as to what to give Perseus for a treat. I’ve already injected weed killer into the remaining apple so if the neighbour tries any funny business on the ladder with the rake he’s going to be dead meat. But I can’t of course give any of it to the canary.

Then today I noticed the last apple was gone. I confronted the neighbour over the back fence. He still had the rake in his hand but I didn’t see an apple. He denied pinching my apple, so I said “You’re a liar and there’s weed killer in the apple so I hope you die.”

I always hang Perseus’ cage on a nail on the back porch if it’s sunny and later I noticed a slice of apple in his cage and Perseus was dead. I was pretty devastated, but fortunately the neighbour is inordinately proud of the watermelons he’s growing in his garden.