Drabble-ish: Apples
Jan. 12th, 2006 09:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinitydayTitle: Apples
Word Count 184
Characters: Barbossa
Author's Notes: I didn't even attempt to make this 100 words. It was one of those ideas I just couldn't pare down, not if I wanted to do it justice. It was written for the Spoils challenge over at the Black Pearl Yahoogroup.
The apple was soft to the touch, bruised although it had been treated with the utmost care. His crew feared what Barbossa might do to them, curse or no curse, if they did anything to damage his apples. But they had been at sea too long and it was senseless to try to eat anything before the curse was lifted, so the fruit had rotted, slowly spoiling, enticing, untouched.
Still, sometimes Barbossa couldn’t resist temptation any longer and he would sink his teeth into the pulpy skin that gave about as much resistance as air might. In happier times, Barbossa would not have spit out it out again, not unless there were others watching, as much as he would open his mouth and let the flesh fall through his teeth (teeth that were still rotting even more than his once-beautiful apples, in spite of everything else). But now, now he would welcome even the acidulous taste he had once shunned. Anything would be better than the nothing he experienced while cursed.
Despite all this, Barbossa still kept The Pearl stocked with crisp, ripe apples.
Word Count 184
Characters: Barbossa
Author's Notes: I didn't even attempt to make this 100 words. It was one of those ideas I just couldn't pare down, not if I wanted to do it justice. It was written for the Spoils challenge over at the Black Pearl Yahoogroup.
The apple was soft to the touch, bruised although it had been treated with the utmost care. His crew feared what Barbossa might do to them, curse or no curse, if they did anything to damage his apples. But they had been at sea too long and it was senseless to try to eat anything before the curse was lifted, so the fruit had rotted, slowly spoiling, enticing, untouched.
Still, sometimes Barbossa couldn’t resist temptation any longer and he would sink his teeth into the pulpy skin that gave about as much resistance as air might. In happier times, Barbossa would not have spit out it out again, not unless there were others watching, as much as he would open his mouth and let the flesh fall through his teeth (teeth that were still rotting even more than his once-beautiful apples, in spite of everything else). But now, now he would welcome even the acidulous taste he had once shunned. Anything would be better than the nothing he experienced while cursed.
Despite all this, Barbossa still kept The Pearl stocked with crisp, ripe apples.