Labor of Love
Yet, there was a hint of a smile on her face; this was a labor of love, after all. The scent of the dew-kissed apples, freshly plucked, was intoxicating. A gust of wind rustled the leaves overhead, whispering tales of summers past. As she trudged back towards the house, a basket full of apples swaying gently in her hands, a wave of nostalgia washed over her.