The man was hurrying home. I hate everything. The sky was still bright at dusk, but the streetlights were lit at a certain time.
On a day like this, I should go home early, take a shower, drink a beer, watch one episode of the new season of Netflix, and go to bed as soon as possible.
As he passed by his usual stadium, he noticed a red pouch. A red pouch,? No,,, it’s an apple. Someone else, hurrying home as well, must have dropped the apple he had bought.
The man picked up the apple, stared at it for a while, then quietly put it in his pocket and started walking again.
I’ll have some baked apples with maple syrup…he likes that.”
The man was no longer in a hurry. Slowly, but surely, he walked toward home.