She was like an apple. Vibrant red and fresh from the farm. Polished to a shine. Firm and crisp. Enticing. With your first bite, your taste buds sang. You moaned as the flesh filled your mouth. You ate, thinking “this is perfection.”
Then you reached the core and realized it was black and filled with rot.
“Do I keep eating?” You wondered. “I can nibble around the bad spots.” The delicious flavor from the first bites still danced on your tongue. Maybe the rot wouldn’t infect you too.
So you nibbled and nibbled and nibbled, and before you knew it, she took a bite out of you.
Sometimes I write fiction. Little stories are parts circle my brain until I have to write them down. This was one of those times.