Oh how I miss the apple trees that used to grow. In my hand I had the last apple left on Earth cut off from the last apple tree left on Earth. It was shimmering red. Every day I would clean it. I knew it was old and molding in the inside; like a spider when it dies. It has been well over 17 years since my father cut it when I was born. But with one bite of it I knew the Civil War would stop.