From a fig to my best remembers.

Leaning against a Fig tree while I was reading a book during a hot summer day, I wondered why there were so many flies buzzing all around me. I stared at one of those small flying insects that was devouring pleasantly an open fig and I remembered myself climbing that tree in order to get the same treasure the fly had got in its mouth: soft sweet fruit, deep flesh under a purple and green skin, full of small red seeds in its interior similar to our veins which carry red blood under our skin. Feeling joyful and blessed by my memories of old days in my grandmother’s house I continued reading my book with a huge smile on my face.