Anguish Pear Novels & Stories

There was even what looked like a small yellow melon with deep white stripes. But the most interesting thing that Fyn saw was a fruit that oddly looked like an orange. Yet he knew it was anything but. The smell was different, the texture was different. It was a pear-shaped orange fruit that had smooth skin. When Fyn bit into it, he was surprised that it split in half, showing two large brown seeds in its center. "That's a loquat."

“So tight. You’ve been saving this for me, haven’t you?” She can’t answer, can only nod, dazed, hips already rocking despite herself. He pulls out almost all the way, then slams back in, once, twice, three punishing strokes that make the cheap bedframe groan. Her head falls back, mouth open in a silent scream. Then he stills, buried to the hilt. The pear is suddenly at her lips. “Open.” She does, he pushes the narrow end past her teeth. It’s cold and heavy; she has to bite gently to hold it.

My voice was so calm, it surprised even me. "When I was little, my dad cheated. One day, he brought his mistress home, and she gave me a mango. Back then, I hadn't tasted mangoes much, so I got excited when I saw the fruit. I sat there on the couch, eating it. When my mother came home and saw the mango in my hands, she didn't say a single word…and jumped out the window." Alan's lips parted. His expression shifted from shock to blank silence. I continued, "You said it was just a joke. Maybe for you, it was. But not for me. So can I go now?"

At that moment, I would have taken anything I could get, just to fill my emptiness. I grasp the vibrant blue fruit, its shape similar to that of a perfect pear, and pull it down vigorously from the sturdy branch of the huge, green tree. It finally comes free, the stem slipping from my fingers as I hold the smooth, cool surface in my hands. Without hesitation, I take a generous bite. The juicy flesh bursts in my mouth, and my eyes widen with surprise and delight—it's incredibly delicious. Unable to resist, I continue to indulge, plucking more of the bright blue fruits from the tree and shoving them into my mouth with increasing enthusiasm.

Surely, this was the end of my employment, my future, my hopes and dreams– “It’s...” Felix began, but was interrupted by Charles. “It’s good, I supposed, but it’s very ordinary.” Charles poked at the remainder of the pie with his fork. “I thought this was supposed to be spectacular, Felix. At least, that’s what you said. Are you sure we can trust your taste?” A shadow crossed Felix’s face. I couldn’t bear seeing him in discomfort for a moment longer. I stepped forward. “This dish is usually made with the zest of prickly pear, which is what Prince Felix remembers” I declared. I could feel Fiona’s glare and Samara’s shock, but forged ahead anyway.