I am an apple long suspended on a tree, too heavy, too astringent, too large, too unsightly—no one wishes to catch me, no one cares to pick me. And I, neither willing to fall and resign myself to the earth, nor to be reabsorbed by the tree, choose instead to hang awkwardly in midair. I pretend to still enjoy the breeze, the sunlight, the raindrops—to relish this amber moment untouched even by birds. Hopelessly, I wait for the serpent meant to guide her, to one day bring Eve to my side.