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Lord Fred walks over to the large podium and picks up the apple. The apple appears to be unblemished, with a fine red skin. At its base is a thin, dry, brittle, stand of brown that was once a flower on an apple tree. The apple fills Fred's palm, and feels firm, but not hard. It feels very much as if it had just been picked and brought in from an orchard. "Where did this apple come from?" Lord Fred thinks. "There are no apple orchards near these caves. It could not have been here long, as it would rot quickly in this dark and musty cave."
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4/8/2003 10:23:57 PM
Extending Enabled
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