Chop Chop Fruit Novels & Stories

My shoulders sagged, and I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for whatever was coming. Then—sound. A sharp sound sliced through the silence. My eyes fluttered open, confusion replacing my fear—only for my breath to catch at the sight before me. Fruits. One after another, they were being severed from the branches at an unbelievable speed, dropping cleanly to the ground. The motion was too fast for my eyes to follow—a blur of precision and power. By the time I realized what was happening, a small pile had already formed, neat and untouched, as if each fruit had been carefully placed rather than cut down in mere seconds.

I guess that’s Cain passes me. I begin to hear the sound of cutting. From the sound of it, I’m guessing it’s a fruit. The crispy sound when you cut the fruit. Is it apple? Pear? What are the others that let out a crispy sound when it’s cut? I stop thinking when I hear his footsteps approaching. I feel a presence near me. I think he’s standing in front of me. “Ready?” He asks. I giggle then nod. Cain brings the fruit to Rosie’s mouth. I slowly move my lips when it’s near me.

Waiting. He’s in a plain black T-shirt now, sleeves rolled to show the corded muscle of his forearms. He’s chopping fruit with slow, deliberate strokes. The knife makes soft thuds against the board. Each one lands somewhere low in my belly. Mom chatters about her book club, about the neighbor’s new dog, about weekend plans. He nods at the right moments. I nod too. But under the table my foot finds his calf. Slides up slowly. Presses against the inside of his thigh.

The words came out a little too fast and I realised I was smiling, my chin lifting a bit as pride sneaked in before I could stop it. Elena paused and looked at me over her shoulder, one brow lifting. “Are you bragging right now?” I made a small laugh. “Maybe a little.” She chuckled too, shaking her head as she opened the fridge, the light spilling out and revealing the neatly arranged shelves. Everything inside was organised and carefully stocked. There were bowls of cut fruits, small containers with labels, bottles of juice and milk lined up like soldiers, and what looked like prepared meals sealed and untouched. She reached in and took out a small bowl of fruit, setting it on the counter.

I didn't want to rush it despite my extreme hunger, to avoid overeating and getting a stiff stomach, which would land me in the hospital. As soon as I finished the bowl of soup, I burped loudly, quickly checking to ensure no one had heard it. Madam Mortica returned to the room, this time with a platter of fresh fruits—mainly watermelon, pineapple, and berries—finely sliced for easy chewing. I gladly took it from her.

"As chowmein and banana shake is there, let us boil some eggs for now. Morning we will see." Alex nodded and brought the packets out. "For chowmein, cut the vegetables." I moved to the refrigerator and took out capsicum, carrot, cabbage, onion. My hands were a little stiff. Knife and I were never friends. Liam always did the chopping back home in our special plans. And of course Omegas are there for doing it. But I did not want to look useless in front of Alex. So I picked up the chopping board, placed a bright red capsicum and held the knife.

Pendant lights hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, inviting glow over the room. Astrid hopped up onto the kitchen counter, making herself comfortable as she watched Phoenix move around the kitchen. He opened the fridge, pulling out a variety of fresh ingredients. Phoenix washed the vegetables and set them on the cutting board and picked up his chef's knife. With a flick of his wrist, he began to chop the bell pepper. Each slice was precise, the pieces falling away in uniform sizes. Astrid watched in amazement as he moved on to the carrots, green peas, then the onions, and finally the beef, cutting each ingredient with the same meticulous attention to detail. Every piece was identical in s

He shouted through the mind link, trying to catch up to me. "No, we don't. Mother is not eating the same thing I intended to make for both of us. So that means we have to cook two different meals." I explained and stopped running after getting to the kitchen. "Shit! We do need to hurry up then." He exclaimed and I nodded. "Here, chop up this plantain. Not dice, just make a big cut. Divide each plantain into three parts." I ordered. "Alright ma'am." He joked and started chopping the plantain. While I get started on making the sauce. In no time, the mashed plantain and sauce was ready.

He gave the two kids a warning look before going into the kitchen. Chris was elated to see how in love his parents were. He held Chloe's hands and said, “Chloe, you’re free now. Can you introduce me to the herbs?” He wanted to be of aid to ailing people, too. “Alrighty!” Chloe agreed. “Come to my house, and I’ll show you a few things.” The two adorable kids held hands and left. Meanwhile, Charmine was chopping wood inside the kitchen. Her skinny hands held onto the heavy ax. She looked ferocious as she cut the log into halves.

I needed to refresh my memory on the video I had skimmed through earlier. I opened the app, tapped on the search bar, and rewatched the two-minute clip on how to fry plantains. The guy in the video made it look so simple. Cut the yellow fruit into neat little circles, drop them gently into hot oil, wait until they turn golden brown, and take them out. Simple. Logical. I set the phone down on the counter, grabbed the wooden cutting board, and stared at the pile of uneven, jaggedly sliced plantains I had managed to dice earlier. Some were thick as bricks, others were thin as paper.