The Touch of an Orange
I was finally in Mac’s famous orange farm where the tall imposing orange trees stood with their branches reaching out to the four directions. Their mix of yellow and green vegetation was decorated by the bright-yellowed ripe oranges and it was a sight to behold. As my longhand sprung to sample one of these eye-pleasing fruits, my fingers stretched with expectation while my feet struggled to lift my lean body to a higher level where the oranges hung vicariously from the overburdened branches. The contact with the round medium-sized orange fruit sent electric shocks to the rest of my body. The five fingers of my hand were now tightly wrapped around the textured exterior of the orange-colored fruit. As my feeble fingers set out for an exploration of the fruit’s exterior they were coming across the minuscule crater-like indentations that littered around the orange’s skin. At the tip of the fruit, there was a mark that the fruit had earlier used to hold on to its supportive branch. Amid the sharp sweet scent that was coming from the fruit, my eyes glanced on the yellow textured fruit for the last time and it became clear that it was time to explore the succulent seed-filled interior of the fruit. This thought made my mouth water as my eyes turned to Mac’s hand-held knife.