حبابة

It is 3:00 post meridiem, and she decides to go out and walk her way to the shore. The sun is the only companion to withdraw her unsettled mind and the only force entering her heart and redirecting her blood. She is not feeling, no one is, she is only tired, her muscles pain, and her stomach aches from hunger. Her face is imagined in her head to be the yellow pale version. That matches her sight of the sand. Carelessly leaves her brown shoes, and steps in the sand with an inner feeling of pleasure when tiny pebbles annoy her bear feet.

She sits watching her shadow, while the chill makes her eyes watery. The warm sun is embracing her inner shield of her body, while the very cold breeze is shamelessly stealing kisses from her pale cheeks.

A wave brings a red rock on the wet flat side of the sand. The topography of her precise face changes dramatically. It is not the first time. It happens all the time. She feels happy for witnessing the delivery of the sea. She does not like the sea; she neither likes any of the space around. But the color of the rock is amazing to her.

She takes the rock in her dry hands, and whispers for a good meal, and buries it, following a ritual, under her feet. She is punished for her long moment away from her work. Never returned back until her master had died. She goes again to find a beautiful tree, with red .. she is confused for she sees fruit with the same shape as the beautiful red rock. She picks one and it is even harder than the former rock, “if this is a fruit” she says “then how can I eat it?” she is not sure what to do. So she gets another rock and scratches it with the red rocky fruit. She sees a white watery flesh by the friction she is making upon the rock, she tries to taste it, and it is delicious! She then pickes some more fruit and goes to her room, and had her meal.

She never knew until now that it was an apple.