Aug 30
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Apricot season

Around the tenth of May, she comes out of her hiding spot, which is an
Old Victorian with yellow trim and a side porch perfect for this
Time of year, perfect for her pop-up shade and old rusty radio that plays static
Half the time. Her arms overflow with jars of fragrant honey and when she
Sets them on plastic folding tables the warm breeze smells of citronella
Three blocks away. You can stop by anytime and squeeze, or buy, or just
Look at the apricots she sells in crates and crates and crates. And
If you ask nicely she might give you one for free with a wink like the
Sunshine you’ve craved all year. One bite will make a river of sugary-orange
Juice run down your wrist and lodge itself deep in the folds of your t-shirt, a
Stain you’ll find months later and miss more than anything. Because when the
Sweetness has left your tongue but not the your sticky skin, and when you
Ask for a paper towel, please, she is already gone. Gone with her plastic tables and
Apricots in crates and crates, gone with her soft radio static and
Summer citronella breeze. The screen door closes, and there she waits, the
Sunshine waiting with her, till next May rolls around.
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About the Author: lilinewberry
Liliane Newberry
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