. . . crack open crisp

. . . “You’re denying the afternoon of June the 22nd,” the lawyer consults his notes.

“I believe that melon was trucked in from eastern Oregon.”

“You got it at a farmstand!  If that isn’t fulfillment of Her contract, I don’t know what is!” the agent throws her hands into the air.

“I’m not suggesting She hasn’t showed up anywhere for work.  Just negligent about looking in around here.” . . .

.

[story: “a fiction: Summer“]

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