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a little more from that storeh back dere.

They were small and bitter, but those hard, only-good-for-decoration-apples were what made Apple Street; Apple Street. The small girls would pretend to be gardeners’ mothers or chefs with the apples. The boys however, knew how to turn it physical. They invented a dozen contact sports, throwing apples in hoops, in baskets, at cars, at each other...The autumn apples were the best because they were soft and almost mush on the inside, with the faintest of sweet smells like cider.
They would split into teams of two. Our Fourth and Third children would be sneaking around the corner of the house when Third would tell the other to wait there, that it was dangerous and sneak away. The Fourth Child would sit eagerly for his scout to return. When he did not, he would rise and turn the bend himself to look for him. Immediately, the other three boys in waiting would pelt their youngest member incessantly and laugh hardily when he began to cry. In tears themselves, they would try half-heartedly to cheer him up in fear of getting in trouble and would usually succeed in stopping the tears by making him feel poorly for ‘being such a baby’.

This was what it was to be raised on Apple Street.

This is just a line or two from something i started writing a long time ago and aren't going to finish... unless somebody actually want's me to. >3>

'Once, in a blustery little town perched in blustery little Illinois, four boys grew to adulthood together. It wasn’t entirely unusual that this occurred, but the children themselves that were marvelously unique.
The first was somewhat of a leader among them. He was the first to grow tall and the rest looked up to him. The second was a reckless young one, whose thoughts always caught up to his feet a yard too late each time. The third was a very sarcastic young man. He was preposterously assured a smart remark was the appropriate response to any given situation.
And there was a fourth child. He was shy and very timid, but a brilliant one nonetheless. He was quiet and observant; He didn’t like sports or wasting the time with meaningless drivel of any sort. ‘Friend’ though he may have been to the other three, they had no room for him in their circle. Naturally they would not say it to his face; they had to think of another way to make him feel unwelcome.
And oh, how children are cruel.

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