Peaches growing in the trees. Fuzzy, round, sweet spheres falling from the branches, rolling on the ground. Eaten by young, smooth hands. The sun hung in the sky and tanned his skin, made him dark as a gunpowder cloud.

Then there was the tune. Music unlike anything he’d ever heard. He stopped biting halfway through the peach, his jaw lingering there like a rusty hinge. His mouth overflowed with sweet, silky juices. More...