This blog contains travel tales and sundry stories of 100 words or less.
Caimito
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Molave
I knew the branches were weak. So I coaxed another boy who was smaller than I was, to move towards the end. He did. As we shook, star apples fell. Then the branch cracked. I held on to the trunk, while he plummeted below! I saw blood. I shouted for help. People came. Then things moved in slow motion. A few days after that fateful afternoon, I saw a boy with a mammoth bandage on his head. He was climbing that same Caimito tree. He beckoned that I come, pick some. I shook my head. Not today my friend.
yeah