An Apple a Day

SAMUEL stretch out my life & pick the seams out When Amalia had asked him to come out to pick apples Sam had been surprised: he and his newly-discovered sister had been spending some time together lately, but it had almost been entirely accidental: the meal they were meant to be having had not yet transpired and he had not asked her anywhere in fear of rejection. Waiting at the edge of the woodland with a basket in his hands, a red and white teatowel lining the bottom, he rocked from the ball of his feet to the heel, making a face as the still-wobbly ankle clicked. No pain, but uncomfortable, and it reminded him of the ill-fated gourd quest, which had been Amalia's idea and had ended terribly. He sighed. No point in holding it over her - her optimism and desire for peace were good qualities, even if they did sometimes lead her to silly conclusions. As he saw her approach he raised a hand in greeting and looked back into the woods. "Good morning! Do you know where the apple trees are...? I don't think I've seen any from here.." take what you like, but close my ears and eyes, watch me stumble over and over.