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.
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.
9 comments:
I just don't know what to write.. its so well written!
..::amu::..
Thanks!
so glad you like it :)
See D, I thought a lot about writing this comment, intay mashallah your style has this amazement in simplicity which adds a very lovely surprise factor into the plot, I do appreciate the very firm introduction which has been succesful into taking the reader in to the complete surrounding enviroment but it implied that there was something more, while it ended just too soon for me, I have a very +18 example to get my view across if you get what I mean!, any how!! It’s just lovely and do please keep up!! You have a very distinct unique style, which is truly mashallah amazing to find in such time and age!! Forgive me if I was too harsh! :*
Someday:
'laughing hard about being harsh'
i wish for harsh comments don't worry ;)
i loved your comment, and i felt just like you, its kinda short.. but i always come to this moment of i don't want to add more...
in oral discussions, it take me a long time to communicate my idea especially if new or just put together, when i write, it doesn't take me long to put it right.. the fact that i can deliver a certain feel in short is fascinating to me "maybe substituting my lack of a fast mathmetical answer ;)
o alla e3eenich ana madryshga3da agool
mashkoora wayed wayed :*
u said 7abbaba.. u said a story.. but when is this story dated?? in what year was that ;) they didn't know about apples.. it is because my last post was an APPLE ;)
now i guess i am the hash one ;) not someday :P
The Simper:
!
walla i did it the date it was dated ;)
it was at 3:00 pm this was the only thing i got from the muse :P
"to be honest" it is an edited version of a family story told to me long ago :)
to make sure that it is not a simperian reference :P
The Simper:
the muse came and told me that it was actually meant to be always in the present time.. it is only in the end when it transformed suddenly to the past...
shawagteeny baroo7 sultan center ashtery red rocks!
:=P
shma3na this action is stimulated???
buying a red rock!
o ayhom malot ilsimach?
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