I slowly circle it, taking in every angle of it’s beauty while it calmly stands there oblivious to my devious thoughts. I examine each of it’s 20 or so stems; the color and shape of it’s bloom, it’s proximity to the others and it’s scent. Finally I choose one. A slight tug and it’s free from it’s brothers and sisters. The bright green of the apple skin is flawless. Tiny beads of sweat have formed on it’s dark smooth chocolate dress. Perhaps it knows what comes next.
I raise it to my mouth. My lips embrace it as I bite it in half. The flavors — tart, bright, and a touch bitter — bursts into my mouth as my teeth crash down on it. The taste of it’s death dances across my tongue. The chocolate melts in the heat and it’s velvet coating sweeten and smooth out the flavor. It was better than I could imagine.
The note quietly watches the carnage. A quick glance at it, and I cannot help but smile.
I devour the other half and reach for my next victim.