FICTION.  Green and yellow, the colors roiling in his nostrils.  He sat looking out the window, his nostrils flared.  He crumpled up some paper he had been writing on, and lit a small fire in the stove.  The metal kettle with water was pulled over the flame, and the sounds of metal on metal sang in the small cottage.  The burning words accepted their fate, and talked to the drink in the kettle.  The words and waters wanted to say something significant, of their existences and times.  He looked at a woman sunbathing at an adjacent house.  and he decided to introduce himself while sharing the drink concoction.  He carried an extra cup, the kettle, and a cup for himself to the fence.  She looked at him approach, and she covered herself with an extra towel while putting on a bikini.  She was pretty, with a nice body, sexy and sensual.  The yard was decorated with a bounty of flowers, greens and pinks, yellows and whites.  The swimming pool of blue tiles, reflected the solars, causing him to squint.  "Care for a drink?" he asked.

"Smells good," she responsed, "what is it?"

"An intoxicating blend of apples, oranges, pears and plums."

"Bring it over, and I will try it."

He set the kettle on the rock fence, and jumped over while holding the two metal cups.  He walked over to where she lay, and poured the mixture into the two cups.  Steam wafted up, carrying the fragrance.  He sipped on his, she waited for hers to cool off.  "What are you reading?" he asked.