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An Apple a Day

An uncomfortable dream.

By KBPublished 3 months ago 2 min read
An Apple a Day
Photo by Estúdio Bloom on Unsplash

An apple a day keeps the doctor away.

But they didn't notice. The worm that lived inside of it.

The worm was dirty. It will make me go to the doctor.

My sister jumps up to grab the apple.

Right as it moves towards my mouth.

Because I was taught, an apple a day keeps the doctor away.

She shows me the caterpillar digging through the flesh.

I could have sworn it was a worm.

Before my eyes the caterpillar changes. Changes color.

It doesn't become a butterfly. It doesn't become a moth.

Instead it acts like a chameleon.

The apple is placed back on the counter.

But the hole is gone, so is the multi-colored caterpillar.

I hear a noise from behind me.

It is the caterpillar. But bigger.

It is my sister.

My sister is the caterpillar.

She asks why I'm looking at her funny.

I can't speak. I want to scream.

But nothing's coming out.

And so, I run.

Run as fast as my legs can take me.

Out of the kitchen, away from the sealed apple and my supposed sister.

Away from my solid brick house that feels incredibly small.

Towards the sun, the beach, the water, anything else but this.

As soon as I step out of the front door.

I look up.

I notice the street looks different.

The ocean isn't at the end of it. Not like it usually is.

It's a big trampoline.

With a million sister caterpillars. Even though I only have one.

Somehow, they're all my sister.

I try again to utter a sound but my words fall flat.

But they can speak, they're all speaking.

At the same time.

This is what I imagine a Twitter forum to sound like.

Out loud.

The sound is overwhelming.

I can't hear a thing.

I can't say a thing.


The alarm clock reads 6:30 AM.

Too early.

My sister sneaks in.

No longer a caterpillar.

She reaches in the closet for a new shirt.

Hers is splattered.


While changing, she notices I'm awake.

She mouths sorry.

But I'm up now.

I follow her into the kitchen.

She was using the immersion blender.

Making applesauce.

At 6:30 AM.

I check my phone. It has only one alert.

Doctor's office at 7:15 AM.

Good thing she woke me up.

surreal poetry

About the Creator


A snippet of life. Some real, some not. Thanks for reading!


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