Iced Grapes

This is the story I wrote in class during our sensory memory assignment on Wednesday. My object was a vine of grapes.

I remember being ten years old, and craving a cold sweet snack. It was 90 degrees outside, and the sun was at its brightest that day. There was no air conditioner in the house, so whether I was outside or inside, the heat and humidity was thick and suffocating. My mom hasn’t came back from work yet, to take me to the cool ice cream store. My sister was not old enough to drive. So after suffering from the heat and hunger for too long, my sister had this idea to put some grapes in the freezer. After waiting a while, we pulled the grapes out of the cold box. The cold air was still fogging around the bundle of the small spherical fruit. We both plucked one grape off the vine and felt it’s icy skin between our fingers. It was almost like a soft marble, so pastel green and smooth. We finally put it in our mouths and an overwhelming sense of refreshing sweetness filled out bodies. It was like a tender fleshy breath mint. It wasn’t a creamy scoop of ice cream, or a long sugary Popsicle, but it was enough for that moment. Each grape was pulled one by one from the vine, and each time it slid down my throat, I felt a tingle through my skin. As we finished the last grape, we hear tires rub up against the rough pavement in front of the garage. And not long afterwards, the voice of our mother, calling us to go to the ice cream shop. We quickly ran out to the car, and felt the sudden heat hug our bodies.