I just read the Fridayfictioneers post about very young girls being abused.

This is also based on a true story; and how do we explain suicide? (By the way, it wasn’t because of me)


He stopped to talk as I was peeling an orange. “Isn’t it interesting,” I said “that oranges nearly always have nine segments.” “I never noticed,” he said, smiling. He had a nice smile.

The next time our paths crossed I was leaving the party just as he was arriving. He smiled at me. “Oh, are you going? I was wanting to talk with you.” But I couldn’t stay.

And then he shot himself.

And now, it seems, all the oranges have ten segments.


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