Quasi-Daily Writing – December 30, 2011 – What’s with all the apples?


So this will be yet another musing upon ecstatic, probably carnal-in-some-way moments. Imaginations are encouraged.

So many of my ecstatic, epiphanic moments lately seem to have to do with apples. In this case, I was in the bathroom sitting with the hubby while he shaved and showered, just because I wanted to be near him. With my iPhone, of course, clicking through Facebook as I sat. I suddenly garnered a want for an apple. I knew there was one in the fridge, that he had eaten its twin the night before and been disappointed with it. Still I wanted it and hoped for more success. So I ran to the fridge, garnered the poor doomed apple, and hurried back to the bathroom. And, as it happened, I lucked out. It was crunchy and sweet and intoxicating and soon I left off the iPhone altogether and stood up to do a little dance while I ate my apple, eventually coming to rest against the towel rack. I felt exceedingly lazy and rather happy; and then I caught myself in the mirror. The angle of my body, the arm resting languidly over my head, the apple at my mouth…I suddenly began giggling and said to the husband, “Look!”

He looked in my reflection’s direction and smirked. “Yes, Eve, you’re very pretty.” At which, of course, I played my part and offered him the apple.

“No! No! That’s how we all go into this mess in the first place, remember?” he laughed. I just batted my eyes.

“But I know so many nice things now,” I protested before taking another sweet bite.

Yes, yes, blasphemous and whatnot, I suppose some would say. But it was fun and I enjoyed the way I looked in the mirror with my hair tumbling in its curls over my shoulder, the red highlights standing out in the bathroom lights. It was one of the moments of contentment with myself that I have come to treasure. I leaned against the towel rack and finished my dear apple down to the very core, contemplated having a friend of mine take pictures of me like this some day, and just enjoyed that ecstatic moment in peace. Which the hubby didn’t mind at all, me or my reflection.

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