The Pomegranate

Rebecca and I had been walking for an hour or so along a hot and dusty road when we saw the pomegranate tree. It's a season too early, but the fruit looked red and ready, and one had dropped to the ground. I picked it up. Its peel had begun to crack open, revealing plump garnet seeds like little jewels within. I shook off a few ants, broke it in two and handed half to my friend, and we walked along dislodging the seeds from the white membrane and popping them into our mouths, our fingertips soon stained pink.

"You know what?" said Rebecca. "I'm happy."

"Oh my goodness," I said, as it dawned on me. "I'm happy too."