Phebe Jewell

When I tell him autumn tastes like apples, he brings me a bright red delicious the next day, pressing it into my hand without a word. “My favorite. Some people eat fuji and pink lady, but I like the ordinary,” I say, the apple still warm from his hand. “The overlooked,” I add, hoping to impress him. “You have a good heart, Rachel” he tells me, erasing the board. “It will … [Read more...] about Gravity by Phebe Jewell