Ten Minute Story - Suggestion: Fruit Hammock

The first thing that Mike noticed when he entered the house was the smell. It was dark even though it was early afternoon (because the blinds were drawn), so he couldn’t see exactly what was causing the stench.

He found an unopened can of motor oil on the floor and slid it over to prop open the door. Maybe air the place out a little. Then he moved into the living room.

“Mr. Samuelson,” Mike called out. The heavy summer air seemed to grab his words the minute he let them loose, dragging them down to the floor before they could make it out of the room. So he called louder. “Mr. Samuelson!”

There was a rustling from somewhere in the back of the house, followed by a sort of grunt. Mike knew this was coming from Mr. Samuelson’s kitchen, but he had expected to find the old man in the living room or maybe in the backyard doing his daily gardening. But not in the kitchen. He kept a strict eating regimen and this was much too late for lunch.

Mike shuffled from the living room toward the kitchen, making sure he made a lot of noise. He didn’t want to reach the kitchen and frighten his handball partner. It would be hard to win today’s tournament with a teammate who just died from cardiac arrest.

When Mike entered the kitchen he immediately knew where the smell was coming from. A box full of peaches rested on the floor next to the ancient refrigerator. Fruit flies hovered around it. And there was Mr. Samuelson, already dressed in his old man shorts and sweatbands, stretching. His shirt was stained with peach juice.

“Mikey! Fancy a peach?”

Mike just shook his head.