Magpie and the Apple Tree

Now there was no-one left to eat them, the apples dropped from the branches of the Knowledge tree.

One such, ripe and red, fell and rolled out of sight.

It sat there and fermented in the sun.

And that’s how Magpie found it.

The gardener came by later, having got over the depression that always comes when your chicks fly the nest. He found a pile of apple cores and Magpie leaning against the tree, full, contented and smelling of cider.

The trickster bird looked up, and hiccupped.

The gardener looked at the apples, then looked at Magpie. “Well… bugger.”