Their wedding house had an unplanted garden. She teased the root ball of their first tree, a Fuji, and he sipped cider and smiled at their world. The radio played, and he sang along. Flat.
“Don’t!” she commanded, amused and shocked he would force her to say this. He stopped. She snipped scraggly roots and lowered the root ball. He bulled into the house and never sang in her presence again.
But twenty years later—with the roots deep, and the tree thick with fruit—he jumped into his lover’s car. They sang out loud all the way across the country.
Jon this is a good one. I loved the metaphor of the root ball.
Thank you so much Jeanne, I appreciate it. … I imagine those were some bitter apples …
Well done, Jon.
Thanks Paul. Means a lot, coming from you.
A beauty. Happy I got to hear you read it the other night!
Thank you Lynn. So glad we finally connected. You’ll have to imagine (or disregard, if you prefer) the sung part at the end!
Fine work.
Hi Luis, thanks a lot. Hey I just read some of the cool work on your blog, liked it a lot. Just followed you on Twitter. Feel free to follow back.
Guy finally gets to sing his song–in a duo, yet. Thanks to the Fuji tree. I gotta call this a great little story, Jon. Let’s have more!
I sure appreciate it, Bobby. Hey, Fuji’s are in season now. Juicy and crisp!
Good one.
Thanks Mr. T.
Love the metaphor and especially this line of the story, “…with the roots deep, and the tree thick with fruit.” So much revealed in one line. Well done.
Thank you Sheila, much appreciated. Your blog is cool, and I just followed on Twitter. Feel free to follow back!