Sour Fruit Friendship

When I was little, we lived in a little town, four hours’ drive away from the city. Our house, though small, had a huge garden (maybe in reality it wasn’t that big, but it was huge for a three-year-old me) where we kept our pet rabbits and pigeons.

It was an afternoon, I think; I wouldn’t have understood the concept of time back then, just counting on mom’s parental skill. I was playing with my dad’s friend’s son. We climbed trees and I challenged him, against my mom’s order, to eat the super sour fruit from the Buni tree (I have been naughty since I was young). He did, he ate like five of them without making the irk sour-face. I thought he had some sort of a superpower! I followed him around and finally made a friendship bond. Until now I regard him as one of my best friends, even though we only Facebook messages each other a couple of times every year nowadays.

Whenever I recall this play date I always feel happy. Good memories keep the heart warm, don’t they?


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