Mango

There in the warm summer market, sat a lovely mango, ripened to the perfect firmness. Alyosha  gently put the mango on top of his shopping bag, along with a few other items he purchased from the market in the square. The square was tranquil today, he was unrushed and content. 

Before he left he told Ustina he would not be gone long. He said he wanted to pick up some special items from the store. It was their one year anniversary together and he wanted to get her something to remember this special day. He took special care as not to bruise or damage the mango on the long walk down the hill from the market, The streets were made of cobblestone and sidewalks narrow and dangerous. One has to make way for people coming from the opposite direction. Cars and  motorcycles occasionally drive the narrow streets.  The walk home took all his attention as to not do damage to the perfect mango. He was especially excited, because Ustina had never experienced the pure pleasure of eating a mango. 

When one has had the perfect mango you immediately know. The skin peels perfectly from the soft juicy orange insides. As the fruit melts in your mouth, there is residual that dribbles slowly down your chin. The stickiness endures. 

He returned home contented, there would be no damage to the mango. He walked in the house and found Ustina in a rather good mood. She had a certain bounce to her step, her eyes filled with sparkle as she kissed him slowly.

As they released their warm embrace, he noticed there on the kitchen table sat a slightly redder mango.

I’m Mark

His friends observe Mark seems wired a little differently. Perhaps it’s more likely that noticing little things often missed by others is a relic of a quieter, simpler time. He has a way with words, which he refuses to let be hindered by sub-par typing skills. People have great stories to tell if you sit and listen.

A belief dear to Mark is that there is certain beauty in the world. You simply have to look for it.

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