Once upon a thyme, there lived a peach princess by the name of Peachabella. She was not particularly beautiful or talented, but she was ripe with a winning spirit and a plucky attitude. However, her naivety and beautifying gaze oftentimes got the best of her. Up in a castle in the hills of Necturia, she lived a life where the only excitement could be found within the pages of her most beloved books. Whenever she read, it was as if the words were coming alive right before her eyes, hopping off the page, and filling her senses with tales of fantasy, romance, mystery, and above all, adventure. Among her favorite stories were The Call of the Wildberry, The Grape Gatsby, Much Avocado About Nothing, and Lord of the Fruit Flies. Peachabella dreamed…show more content… Tcherrkovsky was his name, and his criticism was quite blunt. Everytime Peachabella made a mistake, he yelled, “Oh, my gourd! You, little peach girl, are dimmer than a winter night in Saint Pea-tersburg. Use your coconut, for fig’s sake!” He often hurt her feelings, but he was open about her faults and seemed like he genuinely wanted to help her, so she loved him for it. Through the cherry’s harsh but helpful direction, Peachabella felt herself developing a better taste for life at the cafe, but she wished to form a better relationship with the other fruit staff. She knew that at the end of every night, the cafe turned into a social club for the workers to unwind, and one day she finally worked up the courage to ask Tcherrcovsky for an invite,, to which he replied with a laugh and let her know that she could have just shown up without asking. That night, Peachabella mixed and mingled with the other fruit that worked in the cafe. Among those she got to know better were Kimiquat, a cumquat whose sour attitude packed quite the punch, a rather artificial-sounding honeydew named Honeyduke, and Orangela, an orange who dreamed of singing centerstage at Mandarin Square Garden but couldn't carry a tune to save her leaf. Peachabella also hoped to speak to the mysterious and quite handsome jackfruit who had given her ice after her little incident, but he seemed to vanish only minutes into the social club. With her newfound acquaintances, Peachabella danced the night away and drank barrels full of fertilizer. All of the fruit around her laughed at her embarrassing dance moves and hazy happiness, but her mind was too blurry to truly remember the mean-spirited edge to their voices, and she appreciated their company nonetheless. Once the night ended, she teetered back to her alleyway and rested her head underneath the
