steepholm (steepholm) wrote,
steepholm
steepholm

Chardin and the Zombies

I've taken to removing the windfallen apples to a place of rest, where the woodlice and earwigs can gorge their fill without being tempted to attack those still on the tree. It now resembles a family crypt, with apples in various states of decomposition. The table smells of cider.

Remembering the Windfallen

Malus Aforethought
Tags: real life
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