Prose Words

Fresh Produce

I bought some squash at the store today, Mike.

I was at a not-so-refined estab­lish­ment

Late in the day

He bumped around in my bag,

filled my thoughts nois­i­ly and pierced my plans with deri­sion.

I planned on eat­ing him hap­pi­ly.

 

Lat­er in the day,

I rav­aged its putrid insides

I pulled out every­thing that sus­tains life with­in him, Mike.

It was just skin, I rea­soned. Just rough and bumpy exte­ri­or

He had hurt me before just as bad­ly as I was hurt­ing him!

It was perfect–all he need­ed was a dash of pep­per.

Would you like to try, Mike?

The author

Anne Thracks

Anne Thracks

Prose Editor