The Orange

I stood there staring up at an ancient orange tree. It's bark worn down and rugged from the storms of time, it seemed to me like a signpost of time. As I stood there, I saw giant oranges that caused the branches to be weighted down like old women aged by time. I reached up and plucked an orange the size of a dinnerplate. Peeling back the rind, the sweet tangy orange smell tickles my nose. I eat the flesh and the tangy juices drip down my chin.