A plump web just barely containing the sparkly juice within - the rose colored flesh collapses with a snappy burst of nectar as I bite down. Sweet and ice-cold, the swishing sound it makes in my cheeks sings a clear note of summer days. With the sun's 98-degree blaze beating down, I am cooled by the steady stream of liquid running down my forearms, forming pools at my elbows. Now readily supplied with its slippery ammo, I stalk my brother - totally aloof. A single shot right to the chin!
This means war.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
"rose colored flesh", "pools at my elbows"! LUV IT! And you quote Dante. You are quite the blogger, Missy. Every bit as good as that LeRoy girl's diatribes who went on a "no budget" after her fam lost "Tavern on the Green" and was voted best blogger. I'm a fan and a follower forever.
ReplyDelete