so from when i was six or seven to age thirteen, i lived at a house with an apple tree in the backyard and every year i wondered why the apples never made it to full ripeness and always fell off the tree before they were ready. they were incredibly sour and small when they came off that tree. that was also the tree me and my brothers and sisters climbed when we were young. between that tree and my bike, i busted up my knees pretty good.
this has been part of a series on memories.
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