Past the Low Hanging Fruit

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Is it ever too late? Only one can tell.

Submitted: July 07, 2017

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Submitted: July 07, 2017

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Past the Low Hanging Fruit

 

As an old man, I always kept open eyes. With open eyes, I saw stories unfold and tales come to end. But on a particular day, a day at the park I saw determination break into reality and take host of a boy. This boy’s future unfolded before my eyes. Even though my time was coming to an end, I didn't need anymore to know how this boy's stories ended.

 

There was a tree that rested on the side of a walkway in the middle of the park. I would always rest and eat my lunch on a bench that was close to the tree. People would come and pick apples off the branches. Only the low hangings would be picked and used to fill the hungry people as they continued the walkway. But little did they know that the sweetest apple took place on the peak of the tree. This apple, sweetest of them all, would relinquish you of the hunger you possessed. A bite from this apple would bring the hunger's story to an end for one individual. That very individual was a boy. As an old man who witnessed this emergence of will, this boy came again in the end of my time. When only I thought time was of the essence, but in reality it was of the desirer.  If one so desired something precious, time can be of no factor, time can not stop, nor continue until time has agreed to show the world that a particular one did acquire what he desired. As they say it, only time will tell.

 

pie, the boy came. The boy walked up to the tree and took of the sweet apple. He looked toward the peaked apple like there was no other on the tree. The low hanging apples were of no interest to this boy. The boy’s mouth as if he could already taste the sweet liquid that rested inside the apple. Without a moment notice, he began to climb the tree.

 

This particular boy had eyes like no other. Look at the surface of his eyes and you may see a firm wall of confidence and security, but if somehow by any means you we're able to look past that as the boy look past the low hanging fruits, then you may have sight of something far greater than you or me. This boy had the power and was willing to use it to achieve his desired wishes. This boy had determination like the wind. Like the wind, beating the rock until it bleed pebbles, knowing of no time, but only perseverance, the boy climbed higher.

 

The boy climbed past the low hanging fruits. A couple of them fell as he climbed, but were of no bother as they were of no interest to him. His eyes were set and couldn't be unmoved. If only the boy looked down he would be able to see how high he was in the air. How high his determination took him. I feared for his safety. Only past a few more apples, the sweet apple was in reach of the boy. With both hands, he picked the sweet apple. Doing so he fell towards the ground. Fortunately, I was able to catch him as I had anticipated the event. Holding him with both arms, I asked for the boy's name.

 

I spoke with the boy for a while. He was unlike any other person. He could be strange at times and very farfetched. But when he spoke of his dream and passion he spoke as if he was certain he would complete them. I believed he already did. He was just waiting for time to show the world. When the boy finished his apple, we gave each other’s our regards and then parted ways. He did not continue the walkway, but rather went on the grass field and walked his own path.

 

Laying in my hospital bed, I didn't have much time left. Time was of the essence, but I was given very little. With the very little I made do. The fateful event at the park reoccurred in my mind. I began to question the life I lived and the dreams and goals I possessed. One continued to ricochet in my mind. Had I eaten from the low hanging fruit?


© Copyright 2017 Leo Borgelni. All rights reserved.

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