St. Clement

This actually isn't about St. Clement at all....it just reminded me of that rhyme:
Oranges and Lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's....
Anyways. I wrote this when I was very bored the other day. I honestly don't know very much about it. It is very odd. So odd, you may give me funny looks next time I see you. But, after all, desperate times call for desperate measures. No one has posted anything for a very long time! Someone needs to save the blog from utter ruin! Esmeralda to the rescue! (:-P) I needed something to post, and something quick. Thus, I give you,

Lemons on Sunday

P.S. There are a few wonky allegories in this. So wonky, you may wonder if I actually understand the meaning of allegory. However, I'm curious to see if any of you can figure out what all it means. If you can't, that's ok. It prolly doesn't make much sense. It made sense in my head :-P


'I do like lemons,' he said.
He was gazing out to the street, not looking at her. She was staring at her feet.
'Yes,' she murmured, 'But limes are far more effective.'
'Oh, I don't think so.' He leaned back against the wall. His voice was drawling and bantering. 'Lemons can hide things, sour things that certain people shouldn't see.'
'Yes, but limes are stronger,' she replied. 'They can keep certain people from coming in. They are too slippery for attackers.'
She turned to him, her face earnest, almost pleading.
He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, then turned his gaze back to the cold street.
'So you prefer limes to lemons?' he asked in a rather acidic voice.
She blushed. 'I'm not saying I like either of them, actually. As far as it goes, I'd rather have a strawberry, or a peach, or an apple-' She stopped, and quickly put her hand over her mouth. She had been disturbed by his coldness, wasn't thinking clearly in her effort to defend herself. She had let-that word- slip out. She had said it. What would he think of her now?
She was trembling now, shifting her feet.
He turned to her. His face was like stone.
'What did you say?'
His voice seemed to have grown deeper. Her mind went blank. Fear swept over her. She tried to speak, but her voice shook.
'No, no, I- I didn't mean- don't think- oh, please-don't be mad at me!'
She was near tears. She couldn't look at his face. A tear slid down her cheek and plopped onto her shoe as she waited fearfully for him to respond. She was both dreading and hoping his words. She finally summoned enough nerve to look up- and he was gone. She let out a wail, and fell down weeping on the steps.