Falling Apples

The man began to notice bumps
on his fingers and he thought
of his grandfather – a great big
bump on the old man’s right hand
thumb between joints. The man,
when he was a small boy just able
to see over the kitchen table,
watched the bump on the thumb as
his grandfather poured coffee from
the cup into the saucer, blow on the
coffee swirling in the saucer and
sip. They say the apples don’t fall
far from the tree. The little boy
looked up from the cup at his grand-
father’s shiny, bald head. That was
enough looking for the day. Then
he thought of his favorite cousin
whom he hadn’t seen in years say,
“Oh, I thought for sure you would
have had your father’s beautiful,
thick, wavy hair.” Sometimes the
similarity of apples, in some
respects, skips a generation.

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