The boy came out of his room and joined his family who were sitting around the square dining table, eating apples. Above, a bulb cast its small but tense yellow compass upon them. The joining of the boy filled the last empty side of the table; across the boy sat his mother, cutting and peeling the apples deftly and delicately, and putting the pieces on a wide dish set on the center of the table. The boy pierced his fork through one of the pieces and put it in his mouth. The pungent scent of the apple stung the bridge of his nose and a little tear quickly welled up in his eyes. The taste of the apple, contrasted with the deep and thorough red color of the apple, was not devoid of bittersweet which was to be found in a green apple not yet ripe enough. However, the taste of the apple did not stop him from continuing to put the pieces in his mouth. He was not engrossed by such taste; rather, he could not refrain from the repetitive action of piercing and putting the piece in his mouth, and then chewing and swallowing it. The piece of apple being minced by his teeth and forming into a mouthful cluster of fiber strings created a crispy sound that filled his head, while the rest of his family exchanged affectionate looks and playful remarks about something. The boy did not join the conversation; he did not let his head clear out the crispy noise and bring in the voices.

At last his mother spoke to him, “we are going somewhere tomorrow evening. I’ll leave dinner for you.” She did not explain further and the boy did not ask further; he did not seem responsive to the statement at all, for he was busy eating the apple and did not hear a thing. As if to prove that, his movement of eating the apple picked up a little speed. His mother had moved on to another conversation with others at the table.

Even though the pieces of apple still remained on the dish, everyone at the table except the boy got up from the chairs, saying they were full. One of them asked the boy if he was going to finish the apple and the boy nodded. His recurring movement of eating the apple continued until the rest of his family walked out of the compass of the tense, yellow light radiating down on the table, and the dish had nothing but a little bit of juice and seeds with tiny spots of flesh on them. The strong bittersweet lingered inside his mouth and sealed his mouth stubbornly shut.