Devil's Fruit

Farrah Bhaijee

He bought oranges for this girl.
They were perfect. Round. Big. And the perfect shade of green and yellow. He did not know a lot about oranges, but the hawker in Kongowea promised him that this was the best tasting batch. He trusted this man.
He took out the last crumpled note from his worn out trousers and paid the man. She was worth the walk home.
He handed these oranges to her and she smiled. She placed them on the uteo at the corner of the hut. She did not say thank you. He did not need to hear it.
They slept cuddled tight. Before he closed his eyes he looked at the oranges one more time. They looked nice against the tomato and the two onions. He could smell the oranges as he fell asleep. He had good dreams that night. He dreamt he walked in the rich man’s garden surrounded by orange trees.

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