sloriag
Rather than sitting crumpled at the crotch of the fig tree, as she had for the past four years, she was now vigorously climbing the left most branch. It was a straggler than was unseen just six months ago but, upon discovery, it was clear to her that she must climb. Her inner thighs scraped as she crawled against the bark, but she paid no mind. Her eyes were focused solely on the peach, full of promise, at the far end of the branch.
All great changes are preceded by some amount of chaos.