Golden Fruit

She held it in her hand, the perfect, glowing fruit. She’d tried for days to get it, climbing all the way to the top of the tree they grew on. It was a good one, a special one. She could feel it’s power, under the sun warmed skin. This would be something that would make people think. It had taken a long time to reach it, but it was worth it for him.

He didn’t smile, this human. He did all the other things most humans did, the eating and the sitting in front of their shiny boxes. He played with his children, and he smiled then. Not much besides that.

This fruit would make him smile.

She sought him out at the place he went every day. He sat quietly, tapping on the table with a pen. She set the fruit in front of him, allowing him to see the beauty. It caught his eye, she knew it did.

But he looked away. She nudged it closer, but he still refused.

She tried again. This time he was sitting quietly while his child took a nap. He had a screen in his hand. She again tried to give him the fruit. Surely he must want it. He had taken so many when he was young.

Again, he ignored it.

This time, when she retrieved it, there was a small brown mark on the bottom. The fruit was going bad.

It was such a bright one. She couldn’t let it go to waste. She would have to try again, soon.

The next day, he was sitting in front of the big shiny screen, after putting the children to sleep. She set the fruit next to him. It had several dark spots, he had to take it this time. He looked at it, and started reaching for it.

At the last moment, though, he pulled away, and stood up. He went away, and came back with a dark bottle, resolutely not looking at the fruit.

It was no good. She would have to give the fruit to someone else, or risk letting it spoil. He needed it, she knew he did. But there were others who might need it too, she reasoned. And so she took the fruit, and went off in search for another.

Sometime later, though, she looked in on him. She had another fruit, not as good or as bright as the last. He was sitting at the place he went, touching the plastic and metal thing in front of him. His face looked weary.

It wasn’t a special fruit, she didn’t know why he would take it when he hadn’t taken the perfect one. But, she held it out to him, not thinking that he would take it.

This time, he looked up, looking away from his screen. The fruit had caught his attention. He looked at his screen, then back at the fruit. Finally, he reached out, and took it. And as he did, he smiled.


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