The Nectarine

     The Nectarine

I am at my grandma’s house, visiting her for the summer.  This is the house I have lived in for half of my life, maybe a little more. Visiting this house is like visiting a friend or family member that you haven’t seen for years. Walking through the all too familiar kitchen, I see nectarines. I grab one and a knife and go into the living room. I hear my cousins upstairs making a racket. I hear them arguing at the top of the stairs about who will go down the stairs first. Quickly, before my cousins come, I cut the nectarine, so that my cousins can not have any. In my haste to cut the nectarine, I accidentally cut my finger with the knife. My cousins come down the stairs and call my aunt who is watching us. My aunt starts freaking out about my bleeding finger, and finally she puts a bandage on it after I complain about it hurting. After we all settled down and I stopped bleeding, we went out to ice cream.