There was a time when I hated summer. Summer meant be forced outside to participate in “sports.” Things which I neither understood nor enjoyed. In my mind the two things began inseparable from one another. So I came to loathe summer. The heavy, stifling heat and the bright, lustre of the day-star became harbingers for prolonged periods of not-fun. But things change. When the last spell of good weather visited us I found myself looking out of an open window and a clear, bright world that seemed so very inviting. Thoughts came into my mind. Thoughts like: “I really feel like going for a bit of a cycle today” and “walking six miles seems like an entirely sane and rational thing to do right now.” Perhaps it is because living alone and a general absence of commitments mean that for the first time in my life, I am truly my own master. Free to do what I want to do and be what I want to be. Perhaps my blind stumblings through life are finally beginning to bear fruit. If so it is a fruit I intend to savour. A fruit with crisp skin that yields easily to teeth; a fruit with sharp, yet sweet flesh and juice that runs freely. Perhaps this fruit is an apple. And we all love Them Apples.
Now I’m reasonably sure that this is another image I found on tumblr. Once again I lack a source to attribute it to, because that’s how tumblr rolls. It just doesn’t give a shit about giving people due credit. Attempts to back search it through the dark and mysterious wizardry of Google have yielded only articles about the generosity of the poor. But such is life.
So we have a kindly looking old lady offering someone (or something) a handful or bright red apples. Are the apples fresh? Do the apples taste good? Who is the old lady? Who is she giving the apples to, and why? These questions and more shall be answer by both myself, and anyone who feels brave enough to take up the challenge I’m about to lay before you. Do you have the strength, wit, and sheer tenacity to assume the mantle of a Pictonaut? These folk did:
Sam Kurd – A ghoul’s got to eat
Tonks – Everyone knows the story of Snow White
The Rogue Verbumancer – The generosity of the poor
The Mick – Forbiddon!
James Clayton – Not a Royal Gala: a King Charles III Tragedy