Albie Papersworth

Albert Papersworth lived at 510 Starry Hill Lane in a red-bricked house on top of a hill with his parents Mr. Papersworth an Mrs. Papersworth. He was eight years old. Albert didn’t know much in life, but he did know a few things. He did not like his name, and preferred to be called Albie. He did like his house for two main reasons: 1) He liked the number five quite a bit and smiled every time he saw address: 510 Starry Hill Lane. The second reason was that he liked the color red and even though the exposed brick of his house did not match the color of red from his box of crayons, he thought it was close enough and Albie was not a stickler for such things. Albie did not like his parents.

The Fruit Stand

If you didn’t live through them, there’s really no way for me to explain to you what it was like in the heady days of the 20s. Drink was illegal, and yet somehow more prevalent than ever before. It seemed like money was everywhere if you were smart enough to look for it. With another man making his first million each day, the term New Money meant nothing anymore. Which was good, because each new millionaire found increasingly frivolous ways to spend their money. As for me, I bought a new motorcar with no intention of ever driving it. I should have bought a fruit stand.

The Apple

Madeline took a bite of her ruby apple. Times like this, during summer days at the park, Madeline was glad she eschewed creamy sugary treats and instead found delight in the simple pleasures of an apple. Sometimes, she would picture herself as the title character of Snow White, seconds away from meeting her fate when encountering an ominous apple. Other times, like this one, she remembered the old adage that an apple day kept the doctor away – something she wished her mother listened to three terrible summers ago. Maybe if she did, she would be there that day with Madeline in the park.