caseybeewrites.


Snippets, scribbles and quick writes.
The written word, derived from this mind of mine.
A collection of my thoughts, my imagination. My stories.

My writing, in the raw.

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He was the Apple.

The apple of my eye, the apple in the tree. Red, juicy and impeccably sweet. The season had just rolled in and he was at his ripest; little did I know that he would be so difficult to digest. I watched him glowing every day, wanting to sink my teeth into him and taste him. Everything about him, from his shape to his taste was enough to drive any girl insane. All I ever longed for was the first bite; the crunching sensation and the crunch of sweet conversation but he, the apple simply hung from the tree and stared back, no reaction.

Every time I tried to pick him, he always remained just out of my reach. And that’s when I realized that he never wanted to take a bite out of me.

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