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29.11.2023 Feature Article

The Red Apples (Part 3)

The Red Apples Part 3
29.11.2023 LISTEN

Oliver Odhiambo held the apples in his big palms like a henn nesting her offspring, like a treasure nature quite naturally self-understood, most certainly without a single doubt to have brought forth the mystery of life. His love for the red apples came from the unknown at least for him as he felt fatherly love in his heart. Yes, he was a man to love his wife dearly so his daughter Caren and son Joshua even not as deeply as he sometimes wished. His love was honest, loyal, and occasionally very affectionate at home never in public but the topping on the love he had to give was never with him. He was not a spiritual man no believer in a world beyond what his eyes could see. As a young man, he strictly had fought anyone who had attempted to discuss spiritual matters with him.

As he grew older his wisdom matured from year to year. Not that he would have ever labeled himself a wise old man but he knew he had a charismatic aura around himself. It was there without too much effort, unlike some people who studied books about philosophy without end knowing about all philosophical schools and scholars. As for him, he had it, he simply had it all. That what he had was not painted by any spiritual power. It was like a Twilight Zone a world in between not for simple-minded people to see not to mention to even understand. And it was this absence of the spirit in him that his love for his family was missing. A caring father, oh yes, without any doubt, and an affectionate husband? No one could dispute it. When salt and pepper give a soup the final touch to taste great then this was exactly what Oliver Odhiamo lacked in his emotional life. It was not that he did not know about it. In times of loneliness was he well aware of it, felt it but had no words to make his situation change. Would he have wanted to have it in any way differently? He was not too sure about such an inner calling.

"I feel a strange warmth in my hands holding you guys," said Oliver Odhiambo looking at the three red apples in his palm right before his very eyes. "You could be my children!" He stopped for a moment reflection of his mind visible in his inner mirror. "Gosh...," looked he around him to see where he was and whether others were watching him. "What am I doing here? I mean, I saw these three red apples from far shining bright in the afternoon sun ready for me to go to the tree and pick them from the same branch. And now I stand here and talk to them as if they were of my own flesh or part of my life or in any way meaningful to me. After all...gosh...I mean, these are only three red apples. Not magic, not mystery, nothing of that sort. Three red apples ready to be eaten. I mean, that is what they are made for. To be eaten and enjoyed. Not to be discussed or talked about. Fruits from an apple tree, that is all." He grasped for air, thoughts, and words: "And I...talk to them like a human being. Something seems to be wrong with me. Am I going mad?" Oliver Odhiambo reassured himself: "Hopefully not!"

He tried to make the red apples slide into the cotton bag he used for his daily groceries but they seemingly refused to get off his palms. It took him some effort before his hands were empty again and he was ready to walk off. Keeping his right hand deep in the pocket of his trousers tailor-made a glitching feeling run down his hand. He pulled his hand out, paused for a second, and looked at his hand. It was dry no sweat to be seen. But in his mind was he convinced a slimy glitchy substance must have had contaminated his hand. Within a moment put Oliver Odhiambo down his shopping bag and lifted up his left hand. It was dry no slime was visible. The moment he focused on his hand he felt as if something had poisoned him, something unknown had taken control over him.

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