All the Red Apples Have Withered to Gray, by Gwendolyn Kiste
One bite is all it takes. That is — and always has been — the rule. We discover the first girl in autumn. She’s tucked beneath the tallest tree in our orchard, dozing there like a ripened apple toppled to earth. I’m five years old, and the world is still gossamer and strange, my fragile … Continue reading All the Red Apples Have Withered to Gray, by Gwendolyn Kiste
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