The dark haired little girl sat perfectly still in her chair as a small river of golden nectar trickled down her chin. Still silently, her large black eyes got even larger and blacker as she sunk her teeth in the juicy flesh of the innocent peach. Warm on the outside and cold on the inside from being freshly blanched and skinned, explosions of new, intense, and wild flavors burst forth with every bite.
There was no turning back.
Transformed from a small, quiet, docile girl into a peach crazed, wild eyed beast! Screeching, clawing, flailing, anything to bring the delicious peach back with in her reach. Formerly nearly mute, the child let loose a cacophony of growling, gawing, mmmming, and yeahhhing.
Now she rests in her lair, gorged and full of juicy peach flesh, mmmming herself into an afternoon reprieve. Every once in a while she will lick her lips and growl.
Run little peaches, run while there is still time! I know a soft little pastry shell where you can hide;-)
