Mark Mark Fruit Novels & Stories

He ordered another cup of his drink, which the bartender rushed to make. “You won't know that you are taking alcohol. It's as sweet as fruit juice.” He smiled at me, “As a frequenter of parties, it will be a grave sin if I don't introduce you to the world of fruity alcohol. Don't worry, it won't get you drunk.” “But….” I glanced at the door Mark left through, wondering what the delay was. What could he be doing that will take him more than ten minutes to do? “No buts!” He passed the cup when the bartender got it for him. “Here, have a sip. If you don't like it, you might discard it, though I doubt you will ever do that.”

He informed her. Marcus left Mariko as he gathered dry wood for the fire and built a shelter for them to stay in. He also looked for some fruits for them to eat. He smiled as he saw coconuts under its tree, banana, and mango tree. They brought him back to the shore, and he called Mariko with a smile on his face. “Mariko, look what I got.” He said and still smiling. Mariko stood up and helped him bring the fruits to the banana leaf she took earlier while Marcus was gone. Marcus started making a fire using the wood he took and some stones. Mariko noticed him struggling to make a fire and looked at Marcus with her brows raised.

Mark couldn’t tell what she had in mind; he twitched his eyes but kept his mouth closed. “Is uncle not happy with the grape that I give?” she blinked, “uncle doesn’t want it because he must hate me; if it was uncle Dean or uncle Handsome, they would have eaten it.” He couldn’t bear himself being compared with them. He leaned forward and took the grape she held with his mouth. Suddenly, his mouth was filled with a bitter and sour taste. Mark’s throat rumbled; the sourness caused him to flinch, and his handsome face became a little crooked.

With what must be a paling face, I stare up at the nun smoking a cigarette, choking when I realize it's Daria. The billboard says, "Forbidden Fruit Taste The Best," and then it switches to a website where you can read her story. There is a small text about her cancer and that she is finally living her life again, enjoying her forbidden fruit—whatever the fuck that means! "Killian?" Jenny asks, following my gaze to the billboard before turning around and aiming her massive smile my way. "Pretty right? I've already read her story. Her name is Daria, and her forbidden fruit is falling in love despite having cancer. It's so romantic. She is deeply in love with someone she calls Mr. Mysterious, b

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.

Inside the fence is a small yard, a yard planted with many kinds of fruit trees, this season a ripe orange tree is full of fruit, some of the fruits are ripe and starting to turn yellow, looking a bit greedy. Looking at the ripe oranges as she walked across the yard, Lisa couldn't help but take a second glance, then turned to ask Mark next to her. “Mark, do you like to eat oranges?” In her previous life, she lived with him for several years, and had never seen him eat a lot of fruit, but sometimes when eating oranges, she held two in her hand. Her sudden question made Mark pause, looking at her with a hint of surprise on his stern face. Hearing her words, the old man leading the way suddenly

I gave him a questioning look. “We will need our energy to move your stuff. And i Don’t know about you but i am starving” he said as he set a plate down in front me of and one where he would be sitting. He then set down two bottles of water that he had been carrying under one arm with the plates. Just then my stomach growled pretty loudly. Mark chuckled at that and handed me some utensils and a napkin. The food did smell pretty good. On my plate was a turkey sub with cheese, lettuce, onions, tomatoes and bacon. There were some potato chips and a bowl of fruit. There was a chocolate chip cookie as well. We ate in silence. The occasional pack member greeting us. It was peaceful and enjoyable.

he forwarded the fruit basket to her. It was small and accumulated an apple, a bunch of grapes, two bananas and a few strawberries and black berries with a peeled sliced dragon fruit and several lychees. From every angle it appeared that the basket was properly organized with those fruits (that was because Alan bought it from the market) But he only put those fruits that can be stolen easily. He had to make it look like it was stolen after all!

"This is crazy. I don't even know you." "Your name is Ava." He said it softly, reverently. "Ava Marie Chen. You were born on June twenty-first, eighteen years ago. You have a birthmark on your right hip shaped like a crescent moon. When you were seven, you broke your arm falling out of a tree, and you cried more because you couldn't climb anymore than because it hurt." Tears were streaming down my face now, and I didn't even know why. "Stop. Please stop."

Avery nodded and asked smiling, “What do you want to eat, my Lady?” Aunt Bridgette smiled and replied, “Why don’t you surprise me, Sweetheart?” After school, she went to the fruit market to buy some fruit because she wanted to make a delicious fruit salad for her beloved Aunt Bridge. Avery smiled brightly, and then she took mango, plums, apricots, apples, peaches and pineapple from the fruit rack. She washed them, peeled the pineapple and cut them into quarters. She quickly prepared a marinade. She whisked the melted butter, mint and lemon juice in a bowl, then she added fruit into the marinade.