““Kyle,” my gaze locked on his, “pick up the apple core, and plant it in your garden.” His expression became washed with momentary vacancy. “Yeah, my bad,” he responded, monotone. Robotic, he turned and walked behind the bush, picked up the apple core and stuffed it into his pocket. “I’ll plant it in my garden.” Clarity returned to his eyes, seemingly unaware of the catalyst for his noble actions, and the half eaten apple now residing in his pocket””
