Fathi was hungry and bought two apples, one red and the other green. He went to a nearby park, sat on a bench, and was about to bite into the green. “Am I going to be executed without trial?” the apple asked.
“You’re not more valuable than a human being,” Fathi answered.
“Am I not even allowed to write my will?” asked the apple.
“I won’t eat you,” Fathi said. “I don’t want to be accused of hostility toward green apples.”
Fathi was about to bite into the red apple, but it said in a threatening voice: “If you eat me, you’ll regret it.”
“May God save us from regret!” exclaimed Fathi.
“I’m certain you’re ignorant of who I am,” the red apple said, “and you don’t know from what quarter aid will come.”
“Are you a member of the ruling party, or the opposition?” Fathi asked in disbelief.
“Are you also going to ask me about my relation to drug smuggling and distribution?” the red apple asked back.
“Is your brother an officer in the army?” Fathi asked.
“Have you ever heard of apples that carry arms and kill?” the apple answered.
“Is your uncle a minister?” asked Fathi.
“There are no government employees in my family,” the red apple answered. “The work that trees do has nothing to do with laws, commands, and decisions.”
“Is your uncle one of those who wear a large turban?” Fathi asked.
“A question like that,” the apple answered, “should not be addressed to red apples.”
“Is one of your relatives a millionaire then?” asked Fathi.
The red apple answered, “There is no record in history of a single apple tree going into a bank.”
Fathi laughed, a quick mocking chuckle. He ate the red apple and then the green and paid no heed to their loud cries of complaint. He wiped his lips with a paper napkin and threw it away, and the napkin complained about people who show no gratitude.