Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I'm stopping to think about how I used to only eat my apples part way. I would always leave a little bit of frayed rusty golden meat around the core. Usually, while having a conversation, I would put the partially eaten fruit down and let it go brown on the the edges. One day, while I was telling my friend Dan a story, I watched him eat an apple so meticulously and with such conviction that all that was left were a few seeds on my kitchen table. He didn't show off about it. There was no other way he would even dream of relating to such a juicy specimen. I was awed by his thorough foray into the apple and all of it's parts. I committed myself to a new relationship with the apple from them on.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.