Today is April 27, 1930. The weather is mild with a hint of cloud. The weatherman announced that it might rain in the middle of the afternoon, but I didn’t like his moustache since it curls down slightly which doesn’t fit my current mood of being perfectly content with my life.

In my pocket, I can hear the sound of coins hitting coins while sliding against paper bills. There is $42.48 to be exact, or in other words, my two-week salary minus the money I had just spent on a morning coffee. I’m a bookkeeper for a toilet seat wholesaler and distributor. The office I work at is in the city and I always finish by 5, so I am perfectly content with my professional situation as well as my salary. 

Although, I’m not really thinking about this for any other reason than because I have $42.48, since today is Sunday and I don’t have to go to the office. Not that I would be particularly sad to go either way since I like my job.

I don’t have to go to church either. Not because I’m not a good Christian or not religious, but because in the modern world, you don’t have to be an assiduous attendant of the church to consider yourself a good Christian. I go about every other week, or sometime during weekdays to talk to the pastor. Not to confess about anything really, I just like him and we were in the same football team back in middle school so it’s nice to reminisce. He also sometimes invites me to have dinner with him and his lovely wife of 5 years. They look adorable together and I’m not jealous of them at all, since, at 23 years of age, I’m a happily eligible bachelor, currently by choice.

I go on dates once in a while either with friends of friends, women I met at the coffee shop or through whatever connection we might have. One time I went on a date with a woman called Margaret whom I met at a ball game. It was an enjoyable dinner date, but neither of us felt appropriate to ask for a second date, so we called it quit.

I took a deep breath and the early spring scent filled my nostrils. I smelled a mix of pollen and petrol since I was still walking right beside the street, but underneath a burgeoning oak tree. The petrol smell might have been a bother before, but it is simply a fact of life that we require a meaningful mode of transportation and cars are a much better alternative to horse carriage since they don’t litter the street with their dropping in the streets. I don’t mind horses themselves though. I just think that their excrement doesn’t smell very enjoyable.

Apart from these two smells, something else caught my nose. It was sweet and I liked sweet things.  I looked across the street and spotted a caramelized apple cart with a sign advertising them for $0.05. It wasn’t expensive at all for caramelized apples and it was still a while before lunchtime so there was nothing wrong with having a bit of a snack. I considered crossing the street here and there, but I reconsidered since that wouldn’t be very considerate since the street was busy with cars and all the automobilists followed the rules of law appropriately. It would also be a shame if a policeman was to see me, I could be charged with jaywalking, which although a minor offence, costs a pretty penny. A pretty penny that would be better spent on a caramelized apple.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I walked down the street for a few seconds to a crosswalk and waited for the pedestrian light to come on and crossed the street at a leisurely pace, but not so leisurely as to potentially impede the automobilists from a swift return to their usual speed. Being an occasional automobilist myself, I understand how frustrating that can be when a pedestrian takes more than their allotted time. It has occurred to me to start driving before my dedicated time, but the thought that I might occur a ticket or inadvertently injure someone stopped me on every occasion. Except perhaps once when the light was turning orange, instead of slowing down I accelerated and crossed the stop line just as it turned red. It should have earned me a $5.00 fine, but the policeman was a fair person and understood the circumstance of my infraction and let me go with a warning.

Finally crossing the street  I made my way down the sidewalk to the caramelized apple cart. It smelled very sweet, even more than when I was across the street which made sense since I was much closer than I was before. My stomach didn’t grumble since I already had breakfast and lunch was still a while away, but I did find the treat thoroughly appetising.

“Would you like an apple caramelized, sir?”

The caramelized apple stand’s clerk asked me.

I was taken aback for a moment.

“Do you not mean ‘caramelized apple’, my good man?”

I asked him, confused.

He laughed earthily before pointing the signboard where the words ‘Apple Caramelized’ were written.

“My daughter made the sign board for me but made a mistake spelling the words. I found it so cute that I decided to just start calling that way.”

I nodded at his explanation.

“That is very cute. Yes, I will have an ‘apple caramelized’.”

I said with a chuckle.

 The man laughed along and prepared the snack before handing it to me.

“That will be $0.05, my good sir.”

 I dug through my pocket and after fiddling for a few seconds, I found a nickel. I also grasped a penny and handed the two coins and handed them to the man.

“Here, for you and your daughter.”

I found his story about Apple Caramelized amusing and felt only appropriate to tip the man. Perhaps next time I want a caramelized apple, I should stop here again, for another amusing story? Unless that was his only amusing story, in that case, I’ll only come here twice on purpose and only stop here again if I pass by and want a caramelized apple.

The man thanked me and went back to tending his caramel so it wouldn’t harden in its pot.

I waved him goodbye and went on with my day.