I don’t even like peaches but I wish I did. The colors of crimson and yellow speckled throughout remind me of a sunset. I hate how squishy peaches feel they are so easily bruised I’m not sure how long it’ll last. The squishier the sweeter they say but I disagree. Peaches are not sweet to me. They remind me of a mean girl or sort of facade that one may have. Like my ex-best friend and her peach flavored chapstick telling lies of comfort. Peaches are fake. They’re mean, but I can’t help to want to be a peach.
Wow, It didn’t take long for my precious, “perfect” peach to rot. I tried to salvage what was left but I ended up just tossing it. Every time I opened the fridge I’d see the peach glaring at me drowning me in guilt, but as each day passed the glare turned into a cry for help. The cracks were showing and little miss Georgia Peach was starting to beg for mercy. Weird, I was jealous of a peach I should have been more forgiving but at last all things lose their glamour over time although I can’t help but I miss my peach.
Sara I really admire the way you write! You’re super descriptive and tell a story through like metaphors. It’s so interesting how you made the peach out to be an antagonist in your journals. I enjoyed reading something that felt deep and had multiple meanings.
Thank you Liz, I appreciate the nice comments š
I loved how you related the peach back to the peach flavored lipstick that your ex-best friend used. It helped depict how you were still able to remember her. The usage of the words crimson and yellow allowed me to imagine the sunset that you imagined. I loved how you made the peach have emotions and made it seem how it you felt guilty just letting it sit and rot. I like your choice of words to describe your peach and added at the end how you missed it, even though you are not fond of peaches.
Wow Sara these entries were juicy, just like a peach! Peaches are perfect like a perfect Georgia and I feel like if possible, they would have a judgemental personality. This was a very good description of a peach that I never would have thought of.
Sara, this to me is a joyous account of a sad, deteriorating peach. My favorite line is this: “Every time I opened the fridge Iād see the peach glaring at me drowning me in guilt, but as each day passed the glare turned into a cry for help. The cracks were showing and little miss Georgia Peach was starting to beg for mercy.” I do ask myself why I was jealous of certain people, but it usually takes years for me to see them differently. With a peach, only a few days! And this line develops such a great association: “Like my ex-best friend and her peach flavored chapstick telling lies of comfort.”