Prompt for October 25: Four Lines of Prose about Orange


[Prompt from .]

In the captain’s mouth was the last bit of fruit on the bloody ship. All of us watched as he tore the small slices from the whole, placing each juicy morsel into his mouth, closing his teeth upon it with a satisfying squish. I licked my swollen, bleeding gums, trying desperately amidst the sweltering Caribbean sun to remember the cool citrus taste on my tongue.

The mutiny happened a short while after.


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