THE OLIVE PICKER
SHE WAS HOT; she was tired. Everybody had stopped because of the heat of the day, and it was time for food. She raised her head upwards and the light of the sun winked through the trees, its mottled shadows spreading over her skin. One step higher, one further extension of her right arm, and she would reach a plump cluster of green olives.
She stepped, she stretched, she clasped and pulled, then sudden triumph. Some fell to the ground on the fabric laid out to catch the fruit… Read More »






