Pear Fountain: A Starting Point

pearOne afternoon, Girl was sitting by the side of a fountain, watching her brother paddle to and fro in the clear water.  She had retied the ribbon between them short again and was enjoying the occasional tug.  They were in the midst of a small grove of pear trees, the branches heavy with fruit.  When the wind blew, the sun danced with patterns of shadow, and she could hear more fruit plop to the earth, like sneaky footsteps.  She sighed and contended against her full stomach.  She and her brother had eaten several pears together, but she thought the first one had been the sweetest.

“Okay,” said Girl.  “Time to go home.”

“Not yet,” said her brother, splashing mightily.  She watched as his reflection was caught brilliantly by every falling drop of water.  Then he stopped.

“Where is home anyway?” he asked.

“Right in front of us,” Girl answered, and stood up.




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