Member-only story
Fiction/Writing
Appreciating the Value in a Subtle Agriculture Mentorship
A teensy story followed by a debated writing dilemma
What kind of jam is this, he asked.
Seedless raspberry, I answered.
He chewed his English muffin slowly, staring at me. Pensive eyes.
I set the toaster half a degree too high, so periodically, he crunched loudly on some blackened bits. He has strong teeth.
What did they do with the seeds, finally he spoke.
These are seedless raspberries, sweetie.
Another bite and a louder chomp down. That second half was more than a little burnt. I ejected an involuntary muffled squeak.
One cannot grow raspberries without seeds, he continued.
Oh. There are seeds alright, just stored in minuscule organic knapsacks at the bottom of my bush. Bees make more than honey.
Knowing that reply would please him, distractedly I reached for a book perched on the table in front of me. Senses now tingling in high gear, my mind focussed on teeth and lips and substances smeared all over.
Being a mind reader, he knew better than to ask for more details. A semi-wicked grin replaced his crisp…
