Young Ravens Literary Review: A Biannual Online Literary Journal
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  • Interviews
    • Issue 1 Interviews >
      • Interview with artist Ira Joel Haber
      • Interview with writer S. L. Woodford
      • Interview with poet Dayna Patterson
    • Issue 2 Interviews >
      • Interview with poet Laura Lovic-Lindsay
      • Interview with photographer Michelle Hrvat
      • Interview with author Thalia Spinrad
      • Interview with artist Bobbie Berendson W.
    • Issue 3 Interviews >
      • Interview with author Terri Glass
      • Interview with poet Michael Keshigian
      • Interview with artist Zephren Turner
    • Issue 4 Interviews >
      • Interview with Poet Anne Whitehouse
      • Interview with Artist W. Jack Savage
      • Interview with Author Krisanne Knudsen
    • Issue 5 Interviews >
      • Interview with Poet Seth Jani
      • Interview with Artist Fabrice Poussin
      • Interview with Writer Judith Kelly Quaempts
    • Issue 6 Interviews >
      • Interview with Artist Christine Stoddard
      • Interview with Poet Ricky Ray
      • Interview with Poet Christina Lovin
    • Issue 7 Interviews >
      • Interview with Artist Max Talley
      • Interview with Poet Ali Hintz
      • Interview with Author Lauren Morrow
    • Issue 8 Interviews >
      • Interview with Artist Jesse White
      • Interview with Poet Jeff Burt
      • Interview with Author Daanish Jamal
    • Issue 9 Interviews >
      • Interview with Poet Antoni Ooto
      • Interview with Artist Juan Páez
      • Interview with Writer Meg Freer
    • Issue 10 Interviews >
      • Interview with Shannon Elizabeth Gardner
      • Interview with Karen Neuberg
      • Interview with Vikram Masson
    • Issue 11 Interviews >
      • Interview with Tay Greenleaf
      • Interview with Larry D. Thacker
      • Interview with Jennifer Battisti
    • Issue 12 Interviews >
      • Interview with Shankar Ramakrishnan
      • Interview with Bella Koschalk
      • Interview with Christina Hoag
    • Issue 13 Interviews >
      • Interview with Lauren Walke
      • Interview with Michael Brockley
      • Interview with Donna Pucciani
    • Issue 14 Interviews >
      • Interview with Jemma Leigh Roe
      • Interview wtih Michael T. Young
      • Interview with Judith Ford
    • Issue 15 Interviews >
      • Interview with Richard Levine
      • Interview with Laura Erekson
      • Interview with Leslie Dianne
    • Issue 16 Interviews >
      • Interview with Richard Hanus
      • Interview with Damon Hubbs
      • Interview with Wendy K. Mages
    • Issue 17 Interviews >
      • Interview with Matina Vossou
      • Interview wtih Sigrun Susan Lane
      • Interview with Ariel Mitchell Williams
  • Issues
    • Issue 1 >
      • Introduction Issue 1
      • Cover Art "Girl with Bouquet"
      • Hearing
      • Tiger Nebula & Barnacles
      • 3 Poems by Dayna Patterson
      • A Fruitful Tale
      • 3 Photographs of Spain
      • Sea Ice & Touch the Sun
      • Toad Hunting
      • Touch of Rainbow
      • Moon over Venice & Fontana di Trevi
      • Longboat Key Beach
      • Seashells & Colored Grove
      • Driving Home from the Bar with Frankie, Winter
      • You are the Vision
      • The Embroidery (Vyshyvanka)
      • Safe, Sound
    • Issue 2 >
      • Cover art by Tommy Ottley
      • YR2 Introduction
      • YR2 Bobbie Berendson W.
      • YR2 Laura Madeline Wiseman
      • YR2 Robert A. Kaufman
      • YR2 Laura Lovic-Lindsay
      • YR2 Rebecca Page
      • YR2 Lanette Cadle
      • YR2 Michelle Hrvat
      • YR2 Heather Monson
      • YR2 Maria S. Picone
      • YR2 Mary Bast
      • YR2 Bridget Gage-Dixon
      • YR2 Liz & Elisa Pulido
      • YR2 Katherine Simmons
      • YR2 Thalia Spinrad
      • YR2 Wilda Morris
      • YR2 Ruth Foley
      • YR2 Brent Danley Jones
      • YR2 Sarah Sadie
    • Issue 3 >
      • Cover Art by Zephren Turner
      • YR3 Introduction
      • YR3 Michael Keshigian
      • YR3 Natalie Luehr
      • YR3 Fern G. Z. Carr
      • YR3 Elizabeth Perdomo
      • YR3 Anandi Wilkinson
      • YR3 Terri Glass
      • YR3 Brendan Walsh
      • YR3 Heidi Morrell
      • YR3 Marianne Szlyk
      • YR3 Rachel Bownik
      • YR3 Dennis Trujillo
      • YR3 Dani Dymond
      • YR3 Sylvia Ashby
      • YR3 W. Jack Savage
      • YR3 Krisanne Hastings Knudsen
      • YR3 Dayna Patterson
      • YR3 Mary Buchinger
      • YR3 Linda M. Crate
      • YR3 Nels Hanson
      • YR3 Stephen L. Peck
      • YR3 Debbie Barr
      • YR3 Joanne Esser
      • YR3 Anne Whitehouse
      • YR3 Emily Strauss
    • Issue 4 >
      • Cover art by Kurt Knudsen
      • Introduction: the heart of cyclicity
      • YR4 Page Turner
      • YR4 Randel McCraw Helms
      • YR4 Anne Whitehouse
      • YR4 Bridget Gage-DIxon
      • YR4 Lisa Cook
      • YR4 Mary Stike
      • YR4 W. Jack Savage
      • YR4 Michael Pendragon
      • YR4 J. Ellington
      • YR4 Mantz Yorke
      • YR4 John Grey
      • YR4 Carl Boon
      • YR4 Lynn Otto
      • YR4 Ayendy Bonifacio
      • YR4 Yuan Changming
      • YR4 Paul Stansbury
      • YR4 Ingrid Bruck
      • YR4 Helen Patrice
      • YR4 Laura Sobbott Ross
      • YR4 Krisanne Hastings Knudsen
      • YR4 Emily Bilman
      • YR4 Kaye Linden
      • YR4 Edilson A. Ferreira
      • YR4 Jessica Lindsley
      • YR4 Michael Keshigian
    • Issue 5 >
      • YR5 Introduction
      • YR5 Kirchheimer & Piudik
      • YR5 Robert Ford
      • YR5 Mark A. Fisher
      • YR5 Eli T. Mond
      • YR5 Dani Dymond
      • YR5 Seth Jani
      • YR5 Tonya Hamill (Poetry)
      • YR5 Kersten Christianson
      • YR5 Ed Higgins
      • YR5 Thomas Piekarski
      • YR5 Don Thompson
      • YR5 Marc Carver
      • YR5 Carol Smallwood
      • YR5 Mackenzie Dwyer
      • YR5 Michael Keshigian
      • YR5 Banwynn (Suta) Oakshadow
      • YR5 Terri Simon
      • YR5 Richard Fein
      • YR5 Andrew Hubbard
      • YR5 Matthew Burns
      • YR5 Allison Gish
      • YR5 Judith Kelly Quaempts
      • YR5 Anthony Rubino
      • YR5 Tonya Hamill (Art)
      • YR5 Jennie Harward
      • YR5 Chad M. Horn
      • YR5 Shandi Kano
      • YR5 Fabrice Poussin
      • YR5 Alec Solomita
      • YR5 Review
    • Issue 6 >
      • YR6 Introduction
      • YR6 Christine Stoddard
      • YR6 Ahrend Torrey
      • YR6 Jenn Powers
      • YR6 Felicia Mitchell
      • YR6 Brandon Marlon
      • YR6 Natalie Luehr
      • YR6 Sarah Rehfeldt
      • YR6 Terri Glass
      • YR6 Christina Lovin
      • YR6 Kelly DuMar
      • YR6 Joan White
      • YR6 Peggy Turnbull
      • YR6 Nate Maxson
      • YR6 Vivian Wagner
      • YR6 Tushar Jain
      • YR6 Gordon Kippola
      • YR6 Randel McCraw Helms
      • YR6 Ashley Park Owens - Art
      • YR6 Marianne Peel
      • YR6 Lindsey S. Frantz
      • YR6 Mark Bonica
      • YR6 Ed Krizek
      • YR6 Ricky Ray
      • YR6 Edilson Ferreira
      • YR6 Anne Whitehouse
      • YR6 Cat Dixon
      • YR6 Barbara Brooks
      • YR6 William Doreski
      • YR6 John Grey
      • YR6 Michael Keshigian
      • YR6 Maureen Solomon
      • YR6 Kersten Christianson
      • YR6 Jennifer Liston
      • YR6 Shawna Sommerstad
      • YR6 Ashley Parker Owens - Poetry
      • YR6 Claire Blotter
      • YR6 Zev Torres
    • Issue 7 >
      • Introduction Issue 7
      • YR7 Max Talley
      • YR7 Thomas O'Connell
      • YR7 Fabrice Poussin
      • YR7 Archita Mittra
      • YR7 Ali Hintz
      • YR7 Lucía Damacela
      • YR7 Steven Sher
      • YR7 Cynthia Blank
      • YR7 Kathryn Knight Sonntag
      • YR7 Holly Day
      • YR7 Judy Shepps Battle
      • YR7 Allegra Forman
      • YR7 Kristen Wood
      • YR7 Sarah Rehfeldt
      • YR7 Don Thompson
      • YR7 Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz
      • YR7 Dan Brook
      • YR7 Michael Maul
      • YR7 Dennis Trujillo
      • YR7 Lauren Morrow
      • YR7 Daginne Aignend
      • YR7 Ann Christine Tabaka
      • YR7 Judith Kelly Quaempts
      • YR7 Michael Keshigian
      • YR7 Karen Poppy
      • YR7 Matthew Barron
      • YR7 Krikor Der Hohannesian
      • YR7 Linda M. Crate
      • YR7 Natalie Schriefer
      • YR7 Bob Carlton
      • YR7 Roger Sippl
      • YR7 Jake Sheff
      • YR7 Dan Brook - NF
      • YR7 Jim Zola
      • YR7 Kelsey May
      • YR7 Mark A. Fisher
      • YR7 Meg Freer
      • YR7 Chris Connolly
      • YR7 DJ Hill
      • YR7 Mantz Yorke
      • YR7 Mark J. Mitchell
    • Issue 8 >
      • Issue 8 Introduction
      • YR8 Jesse White
      • YR8 Barbara A. Meier
      • YR8 Meg Freer
      • YR8 Andrea Wolper
      • YR8 Emily Warzeniak - Art
      • YR8 Emily Warzeniak - Poetry
      • YR8 Parul Gupta
      • YR8 Robert Beveridge
      • YR8 Chris Stolle
      • YR8 Maria Pascualy
      • YR8 Daanish Jamal
      • YR8 Roberta Senechal de la Roche
      • YR8 Wendy Schmidt
      • YR8 Kevin Casey
      • YR8 Constantin Preda
      • YR8 Suzanne S. Rancourt
      • YR8 Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz
      • YR8 Judith Kelly Quaempts
      • YR8 Jeff Burt
      • YR8 Michael Keshigian
      • YR8 Ray Ball
    • Issue 9 >
      • YR9 Introduction
      • YR9 Juan Paez
      • YR9 Antoni Ooto
      • YR9 Dennis Trujillo
      • YR9 Kersten Christianson
      • YR9 Stephen Register
      • YR9 Rasma Haidri
      • YR9 John Grey
      • YR9 Terri Glass
      • YR9 Meg Freer - Art
      • YR9 Keith Moul
      • YR9 Thomas Piekarski
      • YR9 Jared Pearce
      • YR9 Sunil Sharma
      • YR9 Paul Bluestein
      • YR9 Linda M. Crate
      • YR9 Meg Freer
      • YR9 Hugh Cook
      • YR9 Marc Carver
      • YR9 Mary Buchinger
      • YR9 Edilson Ferreira
      • YR9 Robert Wexelblatt
      • YR9 Don Thomposon
    • Issue 10 >
      • Issue 10 Introduction
      • YR10 Shannon Elizabeth Gardner
      • YR10 Vikram Masson
      • YR10 Randel McCraw Helms
      • YR10 A1 Shelby Lynn Lanaro
      • YR10 Nate Maxson
      • YR10 Ed Ruzicka
      • YR10 Carol Alena Aronoff
      • YR10 Wendy Schmidt
      • YR10 Meg Freer
      • YR10 Marly Youmans
      • YR10 Diane Dickinson
      • YR10 Anne Whitehouse
      • YR10 Susan Blevins
      • YR10 Shelby Lynn Lanaro
      • YR10 McKenzie Lynn Tozan
      • YR10 Christian Mack
      • YR10 Bridget Gage-Dixon
      • YR10 A1 Edward Lee
      • YR10 Richard Luftig
      • YR10 Rachael Nazzaro
      • YR10 Jan Ball
      • YR10 Michael Keshigian
      • YR10 Anne Doran
      • YR10 George Moore
      • YR10 Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal
      • YR10 Fabrice Poussin
      • YR10 Edward Lee
      • YR10 Edilson Ferreira
      • YR10 Juliette Sebock
      • YR10 Eve Lyons
      • YR10 Tamam Kahn
      • YR10 Patrick Haas
      • YR10 Victoria Elizabeth Ruwi
      • YR10 Tim Kahl
      • YR10 Jennifer Stuart
      • YR10 Laura Stringfellow
      • YR10 Mary Anna Kruch
      • YR10 Tracee Clapper
      • YR10 Marianne Szlyk
      • YR10 Robin Wright
      • YR10 Cynthia Elder
      • YR10 Agnes Vojta
      • YR10 Karen Neuberg
      • YR10 Antoni Ooto
      • YR10 DS Maolailai
      • YR10 Cheryl Caesar
      • YR10 Alec Solomita
      • YR10 Hibah Shabkhez
    • Issue 11 >
      • Issue 11 Introduction
      • YR11 MD Marcus
      • YR11 Donna Pucciani
      • YR11 Edilson Ferreira
      • YR11 John Sweet
      • YR11 Holly Day
      • YR11 Antoni Ooto
      • YR11 Judy DeCroce
      • YR11 Mark J. Mitchell
      • YR11 Margaret King
      • YR11 Meg Freer - Poetry
      • YR11 John Grey
      • YR11 Randel McCraw Helms
      • YR11 Lily Beaumont
      • YR11 Katherine Johnson
      • YR11 Gary Duehr
      • YR11 Fariel Shafee
      • YR11 Tay Greenleaf
      • YR11 J.I. Kleinberg
      • YR11 Barbara A. Meier
      • YR11 Rebecca Fullan
      • YR11 Duane Anderson
      • YR11 Jennifer Battisti
      • YR11 Dayna Patterson
      • YR11 Fabrice Poussin
      • YR11 Meg Freer - Art
      • YR11 Janina Aza Karpinska
      • YR11 Larry D. Thacker
      • YR11 Bob MacKenzie
    • Issue 12 >
      • YR12 Introduction
      • YR12 Bella Koschalk
      • YR12 Lori Levy
      • YR12 Anne Whitehouse
      • YR12 Barbara A. Meier
      • YR12 Charlotte Fong
      • YR12 Sivakami Velliangiri
      • YR12 Vivian Wagner
      • YR12 Bailey Bujnosek
      • YR12 Joan Leotta
      • YR12 Kelley White
      • YR12 Bob MacKenzie
      • YR12 Richard Luftig
      • YR12 Judith Kelly Quaempts
      • YR12 Janette Schafer
      • YR12 John Kaprielian
      • YR12 Antoni Ooto
      • YR12 Shelby Lynn Lanaro - Poetry
      • YR12 Ann Weil
      • YR12 Ellen Dooling Reynard
      • YR12 Randel McCraw Helms
      • YR12 Stephanie Hauer
      • YR12 Stephen Kingsnorth
      • YR12 Cynthia Trenshaw
      • YR12 Shobhana Kumar
      • YR12 Phoebe Backer
      • YR12 Christina Hoag
      • YR12 Shankar Ramakrishnan
      • YR12 Meg Freer
      • YR12 Bob MacKenze - Art
      • YR12 Shelby Lynn Lanaro - Art
      • YR12 Christopher Woods
      • YR12 John L. Stanizzi
    • Issue 13 >
      • YR13 Introduction
      • YR13 Donna Pucciani
      • YR13 Marie C Lecrivain
      • YR13 Anne Whitehouse
      • YR13 George R. Kramer
      • YR13 Vern Fein
      • YR13 Terri Glass
      • YR13 August Smith
      • YR13 Don Thompson
      • YR13 John Raffetto
      • YR13 JBMulligan
      • YR13 Gordon Kippola
      • YR13 Meg Smith
      • YR13 Theric Jepson
      • YR13 Melanie Cox
      • YR13 Shannon Cuthbert
      • YR13 Preeth Ganapathy
      • YR13 Laurinda Lind
      • YR13 Michael Brockley
      • YR13 Lauren Walke
      • YR13 Page Turner
      • YR13 Meg Freer
      • YR13 Cheryl Johnson
      • YR13 Dayna Patterson
      • YR13 Charles J. March III
    • Issue 14 >
      • YR14 Introduction
      • YR14 Agnes Vojta
      • YR14 Michael T. Young
      • YR14 L. Ward Abel
      • YR14 Kelly Morgan
      • YR14 DS Maolalai
      • YR14 Judith Kelly Quaempts
      • YR14 Anneliese Kvamme
      • YR14 Claire Drucker
      • YR14 Anne Whitehouse
      • YR14 August Smith
      • YR14 George Moore
      • YR14 Jennifer Schomburg Kanke
      • YR14 Gena Schwam
      • YR14 Angele Ellis
      • YR14 Matthew Mayes
      • YR14 Jennifer Novotney
      • YR14 Cameron Morse
      • YR14 Shelby Lynn Lanaro
      • YR14 Kate Meyer-Currey
      • YR14 Mark Heathcote
      • YR14 Arlene Weiner
      • YR14 Rebecca Patrascu
      • YR14 Gabrielle Langley
      • YR14 Gary Lark
      • YR14 Michael Keshigian
      • YR14 Cathy Shang
      • YR14 Linda M. Crate
      • YR14 Mark A. Fisher
      • YR14 Jerin Anne Jacob
      • YR14 Randel McCraw Helms
      • YR14 Jack D. Harvey
      • YR14 Ana Pugatch
      • YR14 Tracy Donohue
      • YR14 Roger Singer
      • YR14 Judith Ford
      • YR14 Dayna Patterson
      • YR14 Jemma Leigh Roe
      • YR14 Maxwell Suzuki
      • YR14 Meg Freer
    • Issue 15 >
      • YR15 Introduction
      • YR15 Richard Levine
      • YR15 Mark J. Mitchell
      • YR15 Rob Piazza
      • YR15 Luke Maguire Armstrong
      • YR15 Aaron Hahn
      • YR15 Morgan Bazilian
      • YR15 Christopher Clauss
      • YR15 Randel McCraw Helms
      • YR15 Judith Kelly Quaempts
      • YR15 Anne Whitehouse
      • YR15 Lea Galanter
      • YR15 Ursula O'Reilly
      • YR15 Mark Hammerschick
      • YR15 Brendan Todt
      • YR15 Greg Hill
      • YR15 Seth Ketchem
      • YR15 Nolo Segundo
      • YR15 Elizabeth McCarthy
      • YR15 Cameron Morse
      • YR15 Bruce McRae
      • YR15 Stephen Mead
      • YR15 Leslie Dianne
      • YR15 Laura Erekson
      • YR15 Jamie Ortolano
      • YR15 Robin Wright
      • YR15 Lauren Walke
      • YR15 Page Turner
      • YR15 Paola Bidinelli
      • YR15 Edward Lee
    • Issue 16 >
      • YR16 Introduction
      • YR16 Sharon Wright Mitchell
      • YR16 Mitchell Untch
      • YR16 Lynn White
      • YR16 Kate Falvey
      • YR16 Hamad Al-Rayes
      • YR16 Daniel A. Rabuzzi
      • YR16 Damon Hubbs
      • YR16 Tricia Lloyd Waller
      • YR16 Johanna Haas
      • YR16 Meg Freer
      • YR16 Ethan Blakley
      • YR16 Cameron Morse
      • YR16 Michael Keshigian
      • YR16 Anne Whitehouse
      • YR16 Marie-Elizabeth Mali
      • YR16 Allen Ashley
      • YR16 Kersten Christianson
      • YR16 Kyle Singh
      • YR16 Shari Lawrence Pfleeger
      • YR16 GTimothy Gordon
      • YR16 Ursula O'Reilly
      • YR16 Meekha Roper
      • YR16 Fabrice Poussin
      • YR16 Peycho Kanev
      • YR16 Stevenson & Auclair
      • YR16 Wendy K. Mages
      • YR16 Richard Hanus
      • YR16 Cynthia Yatchman
      • YR16 Jared Rich
      • YR16 Carl Scharwath
      • YR16 Kersten Christianson-Art
      • YR16 Meg Freer-Art
    • Issue 17 >
      • YR17 Introduction
      • YR17 Merryn Rutlege
      • YR17 Sigrun Susan Lane
      • YR17 Elizabeth McCarthy
      • YR17 Kersten Christianson
      • YR17 Alixa Brobbey
      • YR17 Sharon Lopez Mooney
      • YR17 Mary Alice Williams
      • YR17 Ann M Lawrence
      • YR17 Lauren Cox
      • YR17 Karla Linn Merrifield
      • YR17 Chloë Rain
      • YR17 Colette Tennant
      • YR17 Anne Whitehouse
      • YR17 Elizabeth Cranford Garcia
      • YR17 Holly Day
      • YR17 Darlene Young
      • YR17 Robin Wright
      • YR17 Sandra Salinas Newton
      • YR17 Nancy Machlis Rechtman
      • YR17 Dorothy Johnson-Laird
      • YR17 Adrienne Stevenson
      • YR17 Diana Raab
      • YR17 Shirley Harshenin
      • YR17 V. Bray
      • YR17 Christa Fairbrother
      • YR17 Ariel Mitchell Williams-Fiction
      • YR17 Ariel Mitchell Williams-NF
      • YR17 Liz Busby
      • YR17 Matina Vossou
      • YR17 Wendy Lou Schmidt
      • YR17 Richard Hanus
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  • About Us
A Fruitful Tale

By

S. L. Woodford


Illustrations by Jenny Blair
Picture


Toupee von Pear was glad. He and his clan lived a charmed life, hanging from the sturdy branches of Mr. Schleiermacher’s prized pear tree. There, sheltered by its wide leaves, they did not fear the beak of the hungry bird or the gusts of the trundling wind. And every night, Owl visited them. Sitting on his usual branch, straight and unmoving, he would tell to them stories of their fate.

“You are lucky,” he would hoot. “You are the pears Mr. Schleiermacher makes into ambrosia.”

“How? How will he make us into ambrosia, Owl?” Even though Toupee and his clan knew, it was always lovely to hear the story once more.

“If you listen,” replied the Owl, “I shall tell you:  When the nights become cold and your skin is green and soft, Mr. Schleiermacher will come to you with his ladder and basket. With the same large hands he uses to test your ripeness, he will pluck you from your branch and put you in his basket. Then, he will put his basket in his truck and drive to the town’s Juicery—renowned for its delicious juices, beloved by the King.”

“And then what happens?” the pears would ask, for this was their favorite part.

“And then, Mr. Schleiermacher will put you in a press and squeeze you, your yellow-green skin parting and your juices becoming one. You will be ambrosia, the sweetest of liquids, the sole breakfast drink of the King.”

His story now done, the Owl would ruffle his feathers and fly away. His dinner would not catch itself. For a few moments, the pears would keep silent, imagining what it would be like to become one with each other, to become something only fit for the lips of a King. Toupee, nestled in his patch of leaves, would let the memory of the Owl’s words enfold him:  “You will be the sweetest of liquids, the sole breakfast drink of the King.”

What a pleasant thought to fall asleep to.



One evening, just as the nights began to grow colder, a soft sigh awakened Toupee from his sleep.

"Oh, you will do very nicely," a gentle voice said.

A calloused hand reached out and began to pull Toupee from his branch, his stem snapping away, without much effort.

"Toupee! Toupee! Toupee!" his clan called. "Where are you going? That is not Mr. Schleiermacher. We aren’t ready for the harvest."

"I don't know,” Toupee called back. “But I don't want..."

Whatever Toupee had not wanted was lost to his clan; the wind took away his words as the woman climbed down the tree. At the bottom, his kidnapper stopped, cocked her head, and ran her fingers around him. Toupee trembled, her touch, though light, scraped across his skin.  He couldn’t afford bruising. He must be perfect for the harvest. The women leaned over him—and her breath, warm and heavy from the climb, blew across him.

“Lovely,” she said, “absolutely lovely.”

She put Toupee into her coat pocket and began to run.


Picture
“Where was he?”

Toupee opened his eyes. Despite his fears, he had gotten sleep in the woman’s dark pocket. He was on a window sill, opened to the outside world. Toupee felt the hot sunlight, tumbling from the sun overhead, directly on his skin. Always shaded by branches and leaves, he had never felt the sun so intensely before. He looked out the window. Standing on a distant hill was Mr. Schliermacher’s pear tree, tall and full. Toupee closed his eyes and tried not to be sad.

“The sun feels nice, doesn’t it? But by the by, I do hope that she puts us back in the icebox soon. I’m far too young to prune.”

Toupee looked to his left. He wasn’t alone on the window sill. There, a few feet away sat a sumptuous, purple plum.

The plum smiled. “Oh forgive me, where are my manners? I’m Peabody von Plum. And, on behalf of the other fruits, I would like to welcome you to the bowl.”

“The bowl?” Toupee looked around him more closely. Yes, he was on a window sill, but, also in a bowl, a bowl of deep cobalt blue, bluer than the summer sky.

As Peabody’s surname suggests, he came from a high pedigree of fruits and knew how to be the perfect of hosts. “Would you like me to introduce you to the others?” he asked. 

Toupee did not want to be introduced to the others. He wanted to be back up in the pear tree.  Yet, Peabody was being kind, and he didn’t want to seem rude.

“If you would like. I would not object.”

Toupee saw that a group of creatures was beginning to cluster around Peabody, colorful , and bright in the high noon sun.  An apple, small and pink, rolled over to meet him. 

Picture
“Hello,” she said, “I am Alice the Apple.” 

He then saw a great, green prickled thing, looming behind Peabody.  “Greetings,” it shyly said, “I’m Alasdair the Artichoke.” 

“Hello!” chorused a bunch of purple grapes. “We are the Sextuplets.” 

“All of you are fruit?” Toupee was used to only being around pears. 

“Yes,” sang the Sextuplets, “and who are you?” 

“I,” said Toupee, “I am Toupee von Pear of Mr. Schilermacher’s tree.”  He looked out the window again. “You can see it over there.” 

“What a fine tree,” said Alice. 

“Yes it is.  A tree that I hope to go back to in time for the harvest.”  He proudly looked at his strange audience. “I am to be made into the King’s ambrosia!”

The fruits were silent.

Peabody cleared his throat. “Toupee,” he said as gently as he could, “I fear that you will not be going back.”

Picture
“What?” Toupee felt dread welling up in his core. “Why?”

“The Artist, the woman who took you from the tree, requires you.” Peabody glanced fondly at the others. “She requires all of us.” 

“She wants to paint us!” cried the Sextuplets.

“I don’t want to be painted. I must become ambrosia for the King!”

“But you cannot go back,” Peabody said as Toupee felt the plum’s bulging form near him. “None of us can.”

Toupee leaned against the plum’s fleshy side. How he wished that the soft purple-black of Peabody’s skin was a clear summer night in the pear tree. 

“But none of this seems fair!” Toupee sputtered. 

“You are right,” replied Peabody. “It isn’t.” 

“But you are also wrong,” said Alice. 

“Artists,” chorused the Sextuplets, “are never fair.”

It seemed to Toupee that artists were rather cruel.


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But, if artists were rather cruel and had a penchant for unfairness, they also seemed to be rather efficient. As the month unfolded, Toupee noticed that his days in the bowl stretched out before him with a simple rhythm and regularity. Every morning, the artist came into the room where the fruit waited in the ice box. She would open the door and take them out, one by one, and gently position them in the large, cobalt bowl.

After putting the bowl by the open window, she would begin to sketch:  first in pencil, then in charcoal, finally, in colored chalk.

When the fruits felt the afternoon sun warm their skin, she switched to paintbrush and canvas. The Artist would peer at the fruits with furrowed brow and paint until the sun went down. Then, smiling, she would cover the canvas with a white cloth, open the icebox, and gently put the fruits onto the top shelf—one by one—next to the marmalade and eggs. In the cool darkness of the icebox, the fruits would speak about their day. 

“Ah, another day well done,” Peabody would chuckle.

“Goodness, I think she’s making us sit longer and longer,” complained Alice.

“If she keeps us in the sun too long, we’ll get all shriveled!” moaned the Sextuplets. 

Alasdair would usually say nothing.

It was then the fruits would turn their conversation to other matters. Like Toupee’s clan, the icebox fruits enjoyed a good story. But unlike Toupee’s clan, the icebox fruits did not have the stories of Owl on those cold evenings, next to the eggs and marmalade. They only had their stories to tell each other, tales and memories of what they were before the bowl. In Toupee’s opinion, he thought Peabody’s story of his life before the bowl the most interesting, and the most puzzling.

“Please tell us again about your life before the bowl, Peabody,” Toupee would plead, when he thought enough time and stories had passed among the fruits since the plum had last shared his tale.

“Of course, Toupee, I shall do anything for you.” 

Peabody closed his eyes and scrunched them, as if trying to remember the details of something long, long ago. The other fruits gathered around Peabody, except for Alasdair, on account of his spikes, but even he would lean in with interest. Peabody had a way with words.

“Once,” he’d begin, “once, I lived in the tree of the Lady Weaver, the finest creator of yarn and fabric in all the land. Every day, she would tend to me and my brothers and sisters, turning us over, checking the color of our skin, touching us with her fine long, fingers.” 

Toupee closed his eyes, imagining the lady’s delicate touch. Sometimes, Mr. Schliermacher came to the pear tree and gave him and all of his clan a gentle squeeze, just to see that the sun was ripening them properly.

“The lady grew us for our skin, a key pigment for her purple dye, the one that colored the robes of the King. I, like my siblings, was destined to be skinned, squashed, and woven into a ceremonial cape—but the Artist changed that. One night, she climbed up the plum tree, picked me with her calloused hands, and ran home, carrying me in her coat pocket.”

Toupee thought of his clan, of Owl, of warm summer nights in Mr. Schleiermacher’s tree.  “You will be the sweetest of liquids, the sole breakfast drink of the King,” he mumbled to himself. So much for Owl’s stories.

“Toupee? Do you have something to say? You’re mumbling to yourself again.”

“Forgive me, Peabody, I was thinking of my past. Your story always makes me think of my past.”

“I’m sorry that it does.”

“Please, don’t be. But, Peabody?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t you miss it?”

“No.” Peabody paused. “Though the Lady Weaver’s hands were delicate and fine, I never felt any warmth from their touch. I was one of many to her. And yes, the Artist’s hands are rough and smudged with charcoal, but they are warm and gentle. To her, I have always been myself.”

“Yourself?”

“Yes, myself. The Lady Weaver treated me well; but never took the time to see that I had a browner stem than my siblings. The Artist notices things like that.”

“Yes,” added Alice, “the Artist does notice things like that. I was a little too small and a little too pink to be an apple fit for a grocery store display. Yet, she saw my smallness and my pinkness and she chose me for it.”

“And even though we were too sour for wine, she thought we were good enough to paint!” shouted the Sextuplets.

Peabody turned, addressing the large, spiky green thing, which kept its distance but leaned in with interest. “What are you thinking, Alasdair?”

Alasdair, who usually said nothing, smiled. “Even though I kept hidden in the back corner of a market crate, she saw my spikes and thought I was handsome.”

Peabody looked at Toupee, eyes flashing. “My dear boy, because of her, I cannot miss what came before.” The other fruits nodded in agreement. And for a moment, Peabody looked rounder and more purple than usual.




Towards the end of the month, Toupee noticed that his firm green skin was developing soft brown spots, spots that would ooze clear liquid if he leaned on them too hard. He showed them to the others one night in the icebox.

“Oh,” said Alice.

The Sextuplets simultaneously closed their eyes and Alasdair, said nothing but looked very concerned.

“What is it?” asked Toupee.

Peabody looked grave. “My dear boy, you are dying.”

“Dying? Oh…”  Toupee thought of the pear tree and carefully wedged himself between the marmalade and eggs. He didn’t care if the effort made him seep more liquid. He wanted to be alone.

Later, he did not know how much later, Peabody joined him. Again, Toupee leaned against the plum’s fleshy form. Now, Peabody’s purple-black skin was as close as he would ever get to a clear summer night sky.

“It isn’t fair,” moaned Toupee.

“I know, Toupee.”

“I will die alone.”

“No, Toupee, not alone. You are a brother of the bowl, now. Each of us in our own turn will share you fate.”

Toupee wished Peabody’s words comforted him more. Though he had grown fond of the fruits in the bowl, Toupee still felt sad when he saw Mr. Schleiermacher prized pear tree from the window. Even though he didn’t want to, Toupee began to cry, sobbing into Peabody’s soft side.  He would never know what it was like to shed his yellow-green skin and mingle with the juices of his clan.



As Mr. Schleiermacher’s truck rumbled past outside and the winds grew colder, Toupee became softer and softer as his spots grew bigger and bigger. Though the Artist put him and the others in the icebox, its cool kiss no longer stopped his decay. 

Toupee sat in the cobalt bowl, propped up by Alice and Peabody. To keep his spots from showing, the Artist had to be creative:  a strategically placed Sextuplet here and a dab of oil paint there.

Toupee sighed. He was so very tired these days. The sun, whose heat was once pleasing to him, now felt oppressive and intense.

“Peabody,” he murmured, “Peabody old boy, I think my time has come. Could you and Alice help me out of the bowl?”

Peabody stared at him. “My dear boy…”

“No, it’s all right, I would just like to see Mr. Schleiermacher’s pear tree one last time. I’d like to see it from the outside of the bowl.”

Peabody scrunched his eyes, as if he was trying to keep out something very, very sad. “As you wish, Toupee, I shall do anything for you.” 

At Peabody’s command, the fruits of the bowl clustered around Toupee, pushing him up and out of the cobalt bowl, bluer than the summer sky.  But, they pushed him too hard. Amidst the cries of Peabody and Alice, Toupee fell out of the bowl, rolled off the window sill, and landed with a moist splat on the Artist’s floor.

Toupee felt his juices seeping out of him. “Ah,” he thought, “this feels better than being in the sun.” It was then he noticed something near him. 

“Oh dear,” the Artist whispered.

She lightly scooped him up with both of her hands. Though caked with oil paint and calloused, her touch was light. Toupee exhaled, Peabody had been right. She did have warm hands.

They stood in front of the uncovered canvas. “Look, beautiful one. Look at what you have helped me to create. Soon, this will hang in the hall of the King.” Her voice softened. “In fact, it will hang in the hall of many Kings.”

Toupee looked. There, on the canvas was a bowl of fruit, glistening in the afternoon sun. In the center of the bowl was a pear, situated between a voluptuous plum and a small pink apple. The green spikes of an artichoke and the purple clusters of a bunch of grapes added interesting contrast in the background.

The Artist’s breath, gentle and near, flowed over Toupee’s oozing skin. “Lovely,” she whispered, “absolutely lovely. I’m so glad that I chose you.”

And, for the first time—with his eyes still fixed on his likeness, forever painted in oils—Toupee was glad. 

Glad that the Artist had chosen him, too.  

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S. L. Woodford


A graduate of Yale Divinity School, S. L. Woodford spends the majority of her time surrounded by stories. By day, she runs a small, Yale affiliated library, tending to the intellectual offspring of thinkers and mystics. By night, she creates her own stories:  fiction and non-fiction about the mundane, the frivolous, the spiritual, and the magical. She is a regular contributor to The Living Church, Hartford Faith & Values, and Lillian Goes Vintage: The Tumbler. Follow her blog at: poetryandpushpins.com.


Jenny Blair

Jenny Blair earns a living writing and editing, but her shelves are spilling over with picture books and stacks of drawings. She admires the work of Richard Scarry, Tomie dePaola, David Roberts, Trina Schart Hyman, Shaun Tan, Chip Kidd, Alison Bechdel, and Mary Blocksma. Jenny lives in Michigan and has had a long and strange affinity for anthropomorphic fruits and vegetables.



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