Orange

ELVIS A. GALASINAO JR.

In 15th Century England, people believed that witches can kill an enemy by pinning down the victim’s name to an orange and leaving it in a chimney.

It was late and he just arrived home for dinner. The room is filled with the aroma of home baked bread and garden veggies gently roasted, drizzled in old vinegar. We drank wine, we told the most terrible jokes. He apologized for cheating on me because he thought I was a witch –

Because I know the cycles of the moon, Because I dance, I pray, Because I know what to do with herbs besides making them as food –

He stood up and stared at the fireplace. That night, the fire brought a dancing glow into the heart of our home. He smiled. You are so sweet, he said, while reading a piece of paper pinned on an orange, tracing his name written in clear, black ink. He filled his lungs with the sweet aroma of the orange. He breathes the evening in –The forgiveness on my lips are as sweet as an orange.