Lemons

Just a practice peice I wrote one time

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade…

It sat sorrowfully in my palm. I stared almost thoughtlessly at the tiny yellow blob in my hand, focusing on the little brown spot directly in the middle. It wasn’t flawless. It didn’t have any feeling. Rather, it sat freezing in my clench fist, lifeless.

A bitter life clung to my mind like a sour and unpleasant taste would stick to the top of a mouth. I swallowed. Then a luscious rainfall of realization sprinkled down, singing to me that I could no longer avoid it. Water filled my fruitless eyes as a pungent smell would.

Juicy tears rolled down my fragile but soft cheeks. At the end of it’s short lived fall it dripped, disappearing forever.

It’s my fault.

Blinking a few times I’m able to open my eyes to the dreary outside. The constant and unchanging dreary weather mocked my grief. Just like a lemon tree produced light all year round, the sky squeezed and oozed a dull dawn and dusk.

No sun. No relief. No grace, warmth, guidance or succulent soundless saviors. Just a small imperfect lemon.

With one last look at the bright oxymoron in my hand I throw it at the wall. There, I watch as it’s destroyed. Juice trickles down on the white drywall, crying a wail of its own.

 

Make your own freaking lemonade.

 

 

Reviews

[WriterMe]

Ohmigod. What a unique idea! Comparing your life to a lemon. Haha, sounds amusing but the depth you had behind your words was magificent. Your descriptions were just perfect, something I wish to have one day. The powere to describe.
Anyway, they were just breath taking. Wonderful job. =]