An Extract

I was reading my friend's blog the other day and realised that I do a lot of talking about my writing and not a lot of showing so here's an extract from a fable I wrote called The Apple Cart. 

The tree blossomed on the top of the hill and by the twenty-sixth day it rustled with leaves and fruit. When the man had finished his work and was bringing his empty cart back over the hill the sun was setting. The golden strands slashed over the top of the hill, bathing the large tree in a magical glow. The man was amazed by it, his eyes widening as he came closer but his attention shifted to the woman who was on her knees, holding a thistle.

            “You came,” she said when she saw him.

            “Of course,” he replied and let go of the cart. “I brought you something,” he said and from his pocket produced a red apple.

            A smile wrinkled over her face. She dropped the thistle to the ground and took the apple, observing it for a moment. “You love your work,” she said.

            “I do.”

            “What made you do it?” she asked, walking over to smooth the tree. Their tree.

            “My father did it before me,” he said, “and his father before him.”

            “A family business?” she whispered.

            “Yes.”

            She nodded slowly and picked at the apple.

            For the first time he tried to maintain his smile. “Why do you ask?”

            She looked up. “Curiosity.”

            He chuckled. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

            “It killed many things,” she said.