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This apple is a gift.
It is no ordinary gift, however. It is the gift of your master, the very one that put you in this situation in the first place. Your body aches, your mind wanders, your clothes are soaked to the boots with sweat; yet you are thankful, for this apple has been bestowed upon you in your darkest hour.
Okay that might be a little dramatic, but anyone that’s ever been on a long hump in the Marine Corps knows how amazing that stupid little apple is in the middle of your hike. You know what I’m talking about–those bits of delectable fruit scattered by the safety vehicle in milk cartons in the middle of your movement. The company police sergeant’s treat to you. Sometimes it’s an orange, sometimes it’s an apple; either way, you’ll eat the whole thing, skin and core (respectively).
I feel like there’s a poetic significance to eating an apple down to the core. It is a fact that apples actually contain minute amounts of cyanide in their seeds. You take this apple of sin from your green overlords and you bite down into it with the lust of hunger in your teeth. You bite and you eat until you swallow every last piece, seeds included.
As if to say, kill me now.
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