The tree hides in plain sight. Within a row of ornamental friends it claims some anonymity.
One pleasant morning my walk takes me a mere block off my usual trek, up a drive toward an office building. There they hang. Within reach. Almost ripe.
My imagination takes me a week into the future. A thrifty worker comes outside to supplement their lunch. They reach into the branches, move some leaves aside, and twist a tasty treat into their hand. Inside again to wash it up good before crunching into the time honored “An apple a day.”