The Kissing Tree

A woman climbs to the top of the Kissing Tree, clutching at ripe fruits and fresh leaves. At her flat the carpet is mouldering, the wallpaper is peeling, her daughter is starving. The woman wears a long colourful dress, her hair is in a headscarf and a small basket is strapped to her back. Peach by peach she fills her latticed container, the straps cutting lovingly into her dark shoulders as she does so. The sun stretches itself across the blueberry sky above her, scolding any clouds in its path. Once she has filled her basket she begins her slow climb down the Kissing Tree. When her sandals touch the bottom she breathes in deeply, wiping the sweat from her brow with her wrist.
She turns and screams. She has been caught.

Opposite her sits a blind dog, its mangy coat covered in flies. The woman drops to her knees and howls, begging the dog to forgive her through yelping sobs. The blind dog stares into her eyes, watching her and waiting. The woman begins to crawl towards the dog, hands and knees scraping over the dusty ground. She reaches the blind dog and they are touching, nose to nose. A small tear falls from her face and moistens a spot of ground beneath her. The dog sticks its tongue out and licks her sharply on the lips. A brilliant light fills the orchard and suddenly in the place of the blind dog stands a regal man and in place of the woman sits a dog, surrounded by fuzzy peaches. The man ties a piece of rope around the dog's neck and guides it from the orchard.

A scream is heard in the distance.