Short stories

The Apple and the Tree

    One day, a big ripe red apple fell from its tree. 

“No!” it cried. It layed by the stump and roots of the tree, unable to move much. 

“How am I supposed to get back up my tree?” It rolled and rolled and rolled, trying very hard to get back up the tree. But alas, it failed. A squirrel had come by and spoke to the apple. 

“Apple, why do you try to be in the tree when you can be free? Let me tell you, thats the life for me!” And with that, the squirrel ran off. 

“Freedom?” The apple had never thought of that before. The apple tried to roll away, but the roots of the tree got in the way. 

“Why not stay here and wait for your own seeds to plant apple?” The tree said. 

“One day you can be just like me! Big and tall and strong!” The apple considered it. 

“Hmm,” Replied the apple. “How could I be like you when we are completely different? You’re a tree, you have roots and bark. But i’m an apple, and I don’t have those things!” The tree had let out a hearty laugh. 

“Oh dear apple, it isn’t about whats on the outside that matters. It’s on the inside!” The apple was now even more confused. 

“How are we the same on the inside? You are full of wood and squirrels when I am full of fruit and seeds.” The tree felt stumped.

“Well apple, you have seeds! I also have seeds, and that is how you came to be.” The apple was astonished. It didn’t know there were seeds in a tree. Before the apple could speak, the wind had called out,

“Apple, you don’t have to be like the tree just because you both have seeds. Why be like the tree when you can be free? Let me tell you, thats the life for me!” And with that, the whispers of the wind were gone. 

“Freedom?” The apple questioned again. The apple looked up into the tree. 

“Well tree, we may both have seeds. But i realize that I am not you, and you are not me. Even if i climb and rest where i used to be, freedom may be the best life for me. Will you let me free?” The tree had let out an understanding sigh. 

“Very well then, apple. I will let you free, but will you not forget me?”

“Never!” said the apple as the roots twirled out of the way. The wind had whispered its song of freedom one last time, as the apple rolled down the hill and far far away from the tree.  

“Well, well. I liked life in the tree. However i also like freedom, thats the life for me!” 

The End