An apple sat still on a table, not
moving, nor being looked upon
as it sat there. Many walked by,
passed by as the apple sat on that
table, that same old table which had
began to wear, more people walked by,
the apple discoloured, more time
passed, with laughs and giggles and
small minor joys. Yet the apple still
sits and watches, waiting to be noticed.
It soon loathed the sounds of joy and
friendships crafted,...