Ripped from my peaceful life I now sit on death row, they came for Pete this morning. Pete and me we grew up together, from those first fragrant days as nothing more than blossoms until the day we were suddenly ripped from our branches. Pete was one of the kindest and most down to earth MacIntosh I’d ever met. He was a good apple.
We stuck together from the first days spent in one dark and cramped place after another until we were placed side by side at the local supermarket. Then these barbarians came and put us in a bag and brought us here, where it appears we will both meet our end. It was terrible this morning they took Pete and right in front of the rest of us cored, peeled and sliced him into bits. Then as if what they had done was not enough they covered him in some sort of sweet and nutty substance and then ate him, the monsters. Piece by piece until all that remained were his skin and insides left to wilt on the counter top.
The other fruits around here say this happens every day sometimes several times a day. Someone will be taken and never brought back or killed right in front of everyone else. The Bartlett on my right told me she’s the last one of her bunch to survive, that she’s watched the rest slowly disappear.
She says to watch out for what they call the cutting board, a torturous device used to slice you into bits or even worse the blender I can’t even repeat what she told me about that; let’s just say its apparently a real juice bath. She says she’s never seen an apple go in there but still I worry it sounds like the worst way to go.
I miss my tree, I miss Pete and I just want to go home. I know though that won’t happen and it’s only a matter of time before my turn comes up. I just hope it’s quick.
