Eat
90
Oranges
Never before have I considered how truly atrocious they are.
Mother sets one in my palm and sits down at the kitchen table, watching, waiting.
I peel the skin back slowly, leaving stringy bits of sticky skin under my nails.
Pull it apart.
Halves.
Again.
Quarters.
Once more, into eighths.
One piece, hand to mouth.
The acid burns my tongue.
I smile, and pretend to be happy as I eat half of it.
Say I will be late for school, just so I can escape.
Walk out the door, nibble, nibble, nibble.
Outside.
Throw it away like it is radioactive.
Laugh as I watch it twirl through the sky, over the neighbors’ fence, and into their swimming pool.
Never before have I considered how truly atrocious they are.
Mother sets one in my palm and sits down at the kitchen table, watching, waiting.
I peel the skin back slowly, leaving stringy bits of sticky skin under my nails.
Pull it apart.
Halves.
Again.
Quarters.
Once more, into eighths.
One piece, hand to mouth.
The acid burns my tongue.
I smile, and pretend to be happy as I eat half of it.
Say I will be late for school, just so I can escape.
Walk out the door, nibble, nibble, nibble.
Outside.
Throw it away like it is radioactive.
Laugh as I watch it twirl through the sky, over the neighbors’ fence, and into their swimming pool.