Proza

I was a young girl living in an apricot. The walls collapsed around my bed. Worms, I think. Bunches of rotting fruit fell like missiles. I escaped to an apple. I made a bunker in the center and I slept with the seeds. Now the walls have collapsed again. And I realize .. there is no fruit that I can be happy in.

Farewell fresh fleshed friends.

I will leave the fruit bowl and rot.