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(tish, 2468 words)[/CONTENTID1][CONTENTID2]

         Once upon a time, there lived a young maiden from a humble town who is known by the townsfolk as bright, lovely, and yet also quite peculiar. The lady had auburn hair that is unique to everyone else in the area, a kind smile on pink plush lips that the elderly and young kids around are familiar with, and emerald eyes that always gaze off a distance, seemingly seeing things that the others can't.

         In that little town, everyone moves forward, bearing plans for their future. Everyone but her. She remains child-like, marveling at the simplest wonders that the land can offer. The sunrays, tolling bells high up on the church, fireflies, the sound of a spring nearby, the moon — all are beautiful, and all are magical to her.

         "Stagnant. She remains stagnant" — are whispers from loose-lipped wives in the marketplace about her, but this is far from the truth. After all, she, who does not see the world merely as it is on the surface, is meant to forever crave for more in life.

         The maiden craves like no other.

         What the townsfolk will never understand is that compared to worldly wishes, hers will be the hardest to satiate for she can barely name or discern what she wants.

         But if she may try to explain, for anyone who cares to listen, she earnestly often utters — "I want to be moved like a mountain, or have the moon adoring me like how I do to it. I want that sort of joy that fills me with contentment to the point that should I lose it, I would feel no fear nor regret. If I hurt, let me bleed, let me know that it was worth it, and if it was not, then let it be my biggest act of foolishness that I, too, would laugh like a mad man in the end."

         One day, that craving is to be tested.

         It is another bright morning in the woods; the cool breeze of the wind passes by, cheering her on. When she twirls around, her dress puffs like the flowers that blossom her path, and her long auburn hair sets ablaze like the early sun as it sways along. The rustling of the leaves is comforting, and the soft earth that cushions her feet reassures her that she is grounded.

         She was a sight to see, humming and skipping about, taking in the glory of nature as it takes her in as well. The rabbits and squirrels from a distance halt and twitch their tiny noses while bearing witness to their regular visitor.

         When she is tired, she lies down on the ground to rest, not minding what is to become of her dress. A speck of sunlight taps her closed eyelids as if demanding her attention. When her eyelashes flutter to open, she watches in awe as a cloud slowly shifts that sunlight to move its focus away from her face and instead — settles on a small forest clearing where a single fruit can be seen at the center.

         “An apple?” How peculiar. There are no apple trees around these parts of the woods.

         The maiden stands up to pick it up with both hands cupped together and then brings it close to her face to study it.

         Shaped like a human's heart, its skin paints a luscious deep red with a smoothness that makes it gleam when soft rays of sunshine kiss it hello. When sniffed by her nose, the maiden found herself not stopping until her diaphragm tightened and her lungs could no longer take in more. The fruity scent is subtle and yet one not easily forgotten.

         “How pretty, how beguiling,” she extends her arms up to the tallest trees and proudly shows them what she found for herself.

         “You must be tasty,” she whispers when her fingers follow the roundness of the apple, her lips that part widely pressed onto its skin. A kiss. Her curiosity piques as her upper canine teeth pierce the perfect fruit, down until they meet her lower teeth.

         Her first bite. A huge one.

         The crunch was very pleasing to hear. The tall trees' branches curve down to listen while she munches. She did not exactly know what to expect, except for maybe the usual sweetness from a good harvest, but oh, this one is different in every good way.

         Every living cell of her body awakens from the taste. Surely this was the food of the gods or the forbidden one in Eden, for how can such a taste exist?

         And the juice — oh, the sweet juice was delightful! It teases her taste buds, making her crave for more just as she gulps down a chunk of flesh.

         She could not think of anything else but the desire to have more. More! 

         As she remained standing on that little clearing, she bit, chewed, gulped, and repeated these actions for god knows how many times. Elegance and courteousness were thrown from the window; she ate like an insatiable animal, each bite becoming bigger than the ones before. Juices dribbled down her chin, and she selfishly saved them by swiping her tongue, past her lower lip.

         “How delicious, how sweet,” her words of appreciation are endless for the fruit, and the backhand of it, she shakes her head to the foolish unknown who left it here alone.

         She did not even realize she was already closing her eyes. An iridescent kind of happiness was all she could see until she had to open her eyes to see where she should land her last bites of the apple.

         The lady almost jumped in surprise. There, sitting on her hands, was her apple — looking as if it was barely eaten; bite marks and chunks were missing because of her, yes, but there was room for more to eat. More.

         She takes another experimental bite and squints from the spot, and indeed, the apple’s flesh grows from within. How fascinating!

         Could it be that this one is never-ending?

         Is it possible that this one will provide and remain on and on?

         How odd, how magical. Clearly, this is meant to be hers.

         "For finders are keepers, and losers shall be weepers. This one is now mine."

         “Aren