For lunch Taylor washes and dries an organic Bosc pear and puts it on a plate. She grabs a paring knife and a napkin and takes them, along with the pear on the plate, into the living room and turns on the TV. She sits on the couch with the plate in her lap. She picks up the pear and brings it to her nose and sniffs its ripe sweetness. She turns it around in her hands, admiring its smooth, unbruised nut-brown surface. She waits another minute, just to delay her pleasure, to test her will, and then she carefully cuts out a thin slice of the fruit—so thin she can almost see through it—and brings it to her mouth.
Very well written... terrifying 🫣💚
I love it when I get one of these in my inbox.
Yes!!
Taylor is not having it
Since having brain cancer; infeeel pear shaped
This one might be my favorite. Thanks for sharing yourself with us.