The raging inferno towers all around myself, as the jungle burns in the heart of the firestorm. I run through the thick, wet foliage that hisses loudly as the scorching heat licks against it. Mud and black-water splash beneath my metal boots as I push on through the dense canopy, trying to fight my way forward. The wet dirt grips my boots and sucks them in, as if hands were trying to pull me back down into the river of the dead from which I crawl.

Shoo-shoo, lost souls! Shoo-shoo!

I lift my legs, schlocking forward with resolute determination. I won’t let a little thing like the metaphorical representation of eternal damnation stop me. It’s just mud. Just a bunch of wet, goopy jungle-mud. I’m better than that. I wrench my hands forward, grabbing hold of the thick vines that dangle down before my face, the top of their long bodies covered in a thick layer of ash and my vision of them is obscured by black, fuming smoke from the burn. All to the sides and through the edges of every bit of foliage, I see fire. It all burns.

What a mess. Is this floor supposed to be on fire, or did the wizard do this? Or… hey, what’s that?

Looking up at the burning tree, I see the single thing dangling off of a long branch that extends out over my head. Is that… I narrow my eyes. Guy. Is that… fruit?

I feel something spasm in my arm, as it twitches with a sharp jolt, my lance hand smacking against my waist. A fruit? A fruit?!

OOH! OOH!

Leaping, I wrap my arms around the base of the tree and begin to shimmy my way up towards my prize. My fruit. MY FRUIT! The fire rages, burning everything around myself. Looking down for a moment, I see the flames creeping towards the tree, towards the thick trunk beneath myself. But that’s fine. I like to think that I’m fire-proof in this body. There’s not too much to burn on me, you see.

Focusing on the task at hand, I press my legs up and reach, climbing higher and higher as I make my way towards the branch. Mine! It’s mine and I won’t hear a word about it. What’s that? You want a bite, guy? Of MY fruit? I don’t think so. You can get off and go get your own if you want one so badly. What have you ever done for me, huh? That’s right. Nothing. Nothing but hitch a free ride since day one.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

This isn’t a healthy relationship, guy. It should be a give and take, but all I do is give. There’s never anything for me to take and quite frankly, I feel like you don’t take my feelings about it seriously. I work very hard, you know? And I’m very emotional and delicate inside.

Looking over my shoulder towards the branch just above myself, I lean back and kick off of the trunk of the tree, leaping towards the thing that dangles.

My free hand wraps itself around the branch and I lift my lance arm, wrapping the branch under my shoulder as I kick with my feet to pull myself up onto it. I need to get higher. I need to get away from the water. The bad things are in the water and they’re reaching for me. Ooh! No! Bad! Bad! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me, Miller!

I scramble up onto the thick, but wobbly branch and squat down, placing my lance between my gut and my thighs horizontally. Reaching over, I wrap my fingers around the large, red fruit with relief and pluck it off. The giant, bulbous thing releases with a satisfyingly thick snap and I look at my treasure with warm pride in my eyes that glows like the fire below. Finally. I got my fruit. Ah… look at it! It’s so beautiful.

I turn the crimson fruit around in my hands, looking at its perfectly voluptuous body. It’s actually making me a little embarrassed. I feel like this shape reminds me of something, but I can’t really place what it is. It’s so round and firm. I squeeze gently, pressing my fingers into the soft flesh.

The fruit moans.

Narrowing my eyes, I look at it disapprovingly. We don’t do that kind of stuff here, this is a family friendly dungeon. You can’t be like that, okay? You’re going to scare everyone away and I really want somebody to come here. I really want somebody to come here and to get me, to take me with them, to tell me that I belong to them now. To hold me and stroke my head and show me the way out to a brighter life. But they won’t do that if you’re being weird!

The piece of fruit in my hands doesn’t say anything as I continue to stare at it. With a sigh, I shake my head. Who am I kidding? Nobody wants me. I’ll just have to get out of here myself. There’s nobody else I can count on. Well. At least I have this.

Raising my hand, I close my eyes and lower my head to take a bite of the fruit. Ah, I wonder what it tastes like? Is it sweet? Is it sour? I hope it’s a little of both. I hope it’s juicy and soft and delicious. I really want something like that.

My teeth sink into it, pulling off a chunk with a sharp, wet crunch. I really…

I chew, opening my eyes as I slowly move my jaw around in a circular motion, grinding the fruit to a mush beneath my dry teeth. Globs of the chewed up paste fall out of the bottom of my hollow jaw.

It doesn’t taste like anything at all. Why? Why don’t I taste anything?

Lowering my gaze, I stare at the piece of fruit that drips with wet juices out over my metal gloves. It’s nothing. It tastes like nothing. You’re kidding me, right? It’s a joke, right? After all of this? My hand trembles, my fingers squeezing down against the body of the thing, pressing more juices out, which drip down into the raging fire below us, landing with a hiss.

I scream, arching my arm back before throwing the fruit down into the flames. OOH! With angry eyes, I stare down at it as it vanishes into the inferno. Just another disappointment.

It’s just another disappointment.

I shake my head, feel let down. But that’s what I get for expecting something nice to begin with.