GuiltyCowboy
Virgin
- Joined
- Mar 6, 2025
- Posts
- 295
The writing in this post is so bland it has ensured that I will absolutely avoid reading anything else you write!!There was a giant mulberry tree, four stories tall, not far from my childhood home. Every spring, all the neighborhood kids would gather beneath it to pick its sweet fruit. The sensation of that juicy, wondrous flavor spreading across my tongue remains one of my most vivid and cherished childhood memories.
While most of the kids crowded below, reaching for the low-hanging berries within easy reach, a few of us preferred to climb. Up there, among the branches, the picking was freer, more rewarding.
The children below used to call us reckless, saying we took needless risks for nothing more than fruit. But the truth was, they either couldn’t climb or were too afraid to try. So while the lower branches were stripped bare by May, I could still enjoy the last of the deep-purple, wondrous berries from the thinnest, farthest branches well into July.
Now, I’m not saying the fruit below was any less sweet or nourishing than the fruit above, but it was low-hanging fruit...
I could write six thick volumes about my childhood without a single line of dialogue, and trust me, you would read every word.