Blanche was at the grocery store sorting through the apples, trying to locate one that wasn't bruised, and not having any luck. The hand written sign said "Red Deliciousss!!" on it, in purple marker against a lemon-yellow neon. The apples were all very big, and a plastic red; the kind that had a bitter peel, and crisp white flesh, and they were all balanced in a precarious downwards slant on the shelf. These were the left overs, discarded specimens, the ones that had been picked over and dropped and rolled about and replaced without a care. They were the battered women of apples, Blanche thought, left forlorn and waiting for a customer to creep inside the pastel innards of the grocery store, to press and poke a fingertip, accusingly, into the mushy flesh.
This always happened when she waited too long to do the shopping.
Hi there, nano. ♥ I see that another year has come and gone, and it's time for writers to work their fingers to the bone again! What a beautiful month. I wish I could actually partake in it, ): Especially now that I've located a 24 hour diner within walking distance from my apartment, and I have a functioning laptop! Unfortunately, writing must continue taking a back seat to art in my sorry little world, but I want to wish any writer out there tackling nanowrimo this year a lot of good, healthy, crazy luck! Maybe next year I can join your fold again..