Sourest Apples Novels & Stories

She instinctively stiffened, a subconscious reaction of being with a dangerous fellow. She opened the nearest box, and saw something that surprised her. It was actually a box of apples! A box of f*cking apples! “Where did this apples came from?!” Farrah yelled, but Dior didn't seem to understand as he just huffed and turned away. Farrah smiled in happiness, not only because she knew there's a possibility that their love story could have a happy ending but also because she didn't expect to see apples. In the base, apples are just some kind of luxury food. Only those who can afford it can eat it. How could there still be an apple in this ghost town?

Watching Branden eat bite by bite, Catherine couldn't resist the aroma and took a bite of the other half of the apple. In the split second she bit into it, Catherine instantly frowned. This apple looked sweet, but it was unexpectedly sour. After taking a bite, Catherine threw it into the nearby trash can, showing a disgusted expression. Seeing Catherine's actions, Branden seemed somewhat reluctant. When Catherine reached out to take the half of apple from Branden's hand, he quickly avoided her. "This one is too sour. Let me get you another one!" Branden finished the remaining apple in his hand with one bite, squinting his eyes and smiling at Catherine, his face filled with gentleness. "It's

It was peaceful, but lively in its own quiet way. As she passed by a small market stall, a burst of colour caught her eye—apples, plump and shiny, stacked high in a wooden crate. A handsome guy, with a rugged look, stood behind the stall, polishing an apple as if it were the most important job in the world. "Good afternoon, miss. Looking for something sweet?" His voice had a playful edge to it, and Helen’s face flushed almost instantly. She cleared her throat, stepping closer to inspect the apples.

Since this morning, I feel bloated and I have heartburn. “Is this high acidity?” I murmured. “Jane,” Damiel called. “You’ve been drinking water countless times. Are you alright?” “I am not sure. But maybe this is because I drank coffee yesterday.” “Coffee? Ahhh, high acidity? You should eat apples. My wife cannot drink coffee too because she’s acidic. Apple helps.” “Really? I will try. Thanks Damiel.” “Sure. Not a big deal,” he said before he went back on cleaning the vase.

I looked at Paul and laughed at him “ Look who’s talking . You own a plethora of companies . “ “Did you get to keep the juice ?” “ Yes but I had to drain it .” “No wonder your drain smells of Apple juice .” “ I don’t anyone getting sick on my watch and no I don’t have a box lying around in case you want to drink it and get sick .” “ What was the problem ?” “ It had a micro toxin found in rotten or rotting apples … The new batch coming is safe for consumption though .” “ Hmm .” “ Hmm.”

Troy sat up and yawned. "Thanks. I would have slept right through." "You sleep a lot." "Medicine. Don't they give you medicine?" He shrugged. "Anti-depressants. But I've been on those for years." He handed him an apple. "I thought you might be hungry so brought you this." "Thanks." He said gratefully and then took a big bite. He was a little hungry now, but wouldn't have any trouble waiting until dinner time before eating a full meal. There had been many a time that'd he'd gone days without good food.

Marcus's face darkened, feeling somewhat uneasy. Phyllis looked at Mr. Marcus, hesitated for a moment, and calmly said, "Sapote, also known as the fruit of desire. In other words, it's a love fruit that can stir up desires in people. Do you understand?" "Damn, what kind of weird stuff is this?" Mr. Marcus couldn't help but curse. This was too eerie. No wonder there was a sickeningly sweet smell to it.

I nodded when I savoured the taste of the green apples. "Hmm, this really tastes good " I said and finished it up, taking another bite of it. It has been quite a while I hate fresh fruits as tasty as these ones. I was literally used to smoking cigarettes and cocaine. I was still on one of the apples when Sophia had consumed over five apples already. I was shocked to see this. The Sophia I knew wouldn't even finish up to two. I kept on staring at her with a surprised look. "What?" She asked when she realized I was staring at her.

“Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.” I had just cocked my fist back, ready to deck her in her perky little nose, when her scent hit me like a sack of bricks. Rotten apples morphed into sweet, succulent tartlets, topped with charred brown sugar and a thick drizzle of caramel. Her scent was the best thing I’d ever experienced.