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.

1831. The invasion

When Isadore bit into the apple he had no idea how it would change his life. It was just an ordinary apple. Not a green Granny Smith, but one of those rosy red ones. They have a name, but goodness knows what the name was. It was the apple season so the fresh apple was crisp and crunchy.

Unbeknown to Isadore, there was a caterpillar buried deep in the apple and somehow he had avoided chewing the creature and had swallowed it whole. He was utterly unaware of what had happened.

The caterpillar however wasn’t just an ordinary caterpillar; it was a device created by aliens from another planet, and this was the beginning of their infiltration into planet Earth. Once swallowed this device would send back to the alien invaders every detail of Isadore’s life. And Isadore wasn’t alone in being investigated. There were dozens; in fact, hundreds; in fact, thousands; in fact, millions.

There wasn’t a detail the caterpillar wasn’t designed to gather. And Isadore and all the other victims were to be saddled unknowingly for the rest of their lives. It was an alien invasion. No one saw it come. No one saw it operate.

The alien’s name was Google.

1656. The faithful apple tree

(Grateful thanks to Lisa of arlingwords for giving the opening sentence.)

Trees are really amazing things, but most people don’t even notice them.

Lawrence and Keith’s properties shared a common boundary, and there slap-bang on the boundary was an apple tree as old as the hills. Keith thought the apple tree an eyesore. “It doesn’t produce much fruit anyway, and they’re sour.” But Lawrence had grown up with that tree. He thought although it was old, and in places a little spindly, that it had character.

“We should chop it down,” said Keith.

“Over my dead body,” said Lawrence.

Keith took things into his own hands one Saturday afternoon and chopped it down. “There!” he said. “It’s just a pile of useless twigs and firewood. Lawrence might as well take the lot.”

Lawrence did take the lot, and over time he carved the wood into seventy-four miniature figurines. There was a farmer going to market, for example, with a piglet under his arm. There was a haggard old lady selling pears. Each figurine sold for around ninety dollars. And the chess set reach fifteen hundred.

“We’ve got to put up a proper boundary fence,” said Keith, “and you’re paying half.”

Lawrence did pay half. And what a magnificent boundary fence it was! He planted a row of fruit trees on his side. And not a penny of the cost came from anywhere except from the good old faithful apple tree.

Music 156: One lone apple

One lone apple left over from the fall.

Listen to the music HERE!

879. Apple crumble

The man who coined the phrase “An apple a day keeps the doctor away” has died. Mr Pip Appleton passed away on Thursday evening with his wife at his bedside.

“The cause of his death was minor,” said Mrs Charity Appleton, “but he refused to see a doctor.”

Mr Pip Appleton was a well-known and respected orchardist in the area. He had come up with the phrase after a drop in sales and a glut of apples. The slogan worked. The whole world practically espoused the principle and sank their teeth into juicy Granny Smiths.

“It’s not simply a clever phrase,” gloried Mr Appleton, “it’s actually true.”

“It’s pride what killed him in the end,” said Mrs Charity Appleton. “Pride, not lack of apples. He refused to see a doctor simply because he wanted to prove the veracity of his slogan – right to the very end. Pride cometh before a fall.”

It is believed that Mrs Charity Appleton’s catchphrase, “Pride cometh before a fall”, is very likely to catch on.

To listen to the story being read click HERE!