He’d first caught the scent’s fragrant tang on an early morning breeze, on the first days after the snows had well and truly departed, and Summer lay tripping and sliding just beyond his range of perception.
At these times, the human creature often sat in a large wooden chair outside the cabin, bare legs drawn up against the dew, peeling the skin off a bright globe, its oils spritzing in the early sun, alternately eating the wedges hidden within and sipping at a sharp, earthy, misty brew secreted in a tall cup; the smell made him a little crazy, and once, when she’d run back in the cabin to refill her cup, he’d scurried from his hiding place in the tall grasses and with his sharp, furry hands, captured a bit of the peel that had fallen on the ground.
Summer deepened and she’d watch the lake from her place in the chair, while fishing boats chugged by in the channel, and shadows shifted and shortened as the sun moved higher in the sky. He respected that, as he loved Lady Lake, too, and he often sat, touching the bright globe’s drying peel to his lips as both he and the human, separate but together, greeted the lake’s waves and ripples as the wind shifted throughout the morning.
Once, she’d left a wedge of the bright globe sitting on the chair’s arm when she’d run into the cabin to refresh her cup, and he couldn’t resist that either, standing on the seat as he stuffed it in his mouth and the juice exploded and ran down his bearded chin and on to his rounded belly.
She’d stood inside the screened porch, coffee in hand and a smile on her face, and decided to leave him two wedges next time.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2022)
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “JUICE”, and here’s where you join the party:Six Sentence Stories