It was around 7 am when you woke up to your father dropping a glass on the floor. You sighed, stretching and closing your eyes, ready to go back to sleep, but unfortunately, your mother opened the door to your room, opening the curtains and loudly telling you to wake up already. You rolled your eyes, contenting yourself not to answer, your eyes drifting to the window, watching the green trees outside, which eased your anger.

With a sigh, you got up from the bed, as you looked at the basket of fruit your mother had placed on top of your shelf.

• Mom, what is this?

You asked, walking over to the shelf and picking up an apple in your hand.

• Take it to the lumberjack outside.

She replied, as she wiped the floor with a cloth. Your brow furrowed, wondering why your father had hired a lumberjack. You put on your clothes and picked up the basket, wiping the corners of your eyes with your fingers as you walked to the front door. Your eyes closed as you opened them, the sun was shining brightly and the wind was cold, making your messy hair flutter.

You started walking, looking for the man, your eyebrows raised when you noticed an old red truck parked near the barn, you quickened your pace, widening your eyes as you approached, and then, a male voice came from behind you.

• Beautiful, huh?