Once upon a time, a very long time ago though not long enough to be considered ancient but old nonetheless, there lived a lemon. The lemon wasn't what considered a "regular" lemon for this was a one-legged lemon and the fact that he was one-legged set him apart somewhat from the other lemons.
One day the one-legged lemon went for a walk, which he could since he did in fact have one leg or he was in scientific terms, a uniped. By now the folks in the neighborhood had recovered from their initial shook of seeing a one-legged lemon stroll about and in fact most were rather polite to the one-legged lemon though there were a few, a very small number, though not so small that it was zero but it was more than one who would taunt the one-legged wonder but he paid them no attention, he was strolling and he had places to go and things to see that were beyond the scope of the normal lemon.
On this particular day the lemon ventured upon a street that he had never been upon before and upon this street there were three rather large stately manors, each surrounded by rather large though not overly large wrought iron fences that were more than ivy covered though the wrought iron fence could actually be seen and wasn't entirely covered by the ivy and yet made it difficult to see though to the lower levels of the manors but the upper floors could plainly be seen from the street. The lemon grew more curious as he noticed that from the street it appeared as if all the manors were number six but he was almost sure that the ivy was covering at least one additional number. He was off to see all that this world had to offer so he approached the gate of the first manor and noticed that it was slightly ajar, not wide enough for an adult human but plenty wide enough for a lemon.
Into the great unknown went the fearless lemon. Once he was through the gate, the first thing that the lemon noticed was the fact that lawn care at this manor was needed very badly and that it would probably be a somewhat expensive undertaking. The cobblestones of the drive were almost entirely overgrown leaving only the center of the stone seeing the day of light. Up the marble stairs and up to what the lemon was sure to be the main entry way, he began to have seconds thoughts about whether or not this was a wise move. He had to know who or what was behind the door and having good manners, he knocked upon the once stately door, nothing, nobody, not a noise was heard. He had made it this far and wasn't about to let the growing fear deep within his soul keep him from knowing what was on the other side, so he knocked again. The door swung slowly and he could look inside to see that no one had been through these doors in a very long time.
He made it this far so there was no sense in stopping now and in he went. The entire room as far as he could see was decorated in an early horror movie style with far too much dust and rather large unrealistic spider webs. And his journey hadn't ended yet, the further he went and the more the fear of dread weighed upon his little sour soul.
A noise, a creaking floorboard echoed through the manor. "Is anyone there? Hello, hello," the lemon managed to say.
And then "Get thee from my house," in a voice that could have bellowed from beyond the grave stopped the lemon in his tracks. His options ran through his head at about a million miles an hour and retreat lead the pack. He turned as if in slow motion and as if a switch had been thrown, out the door he went.
"Maybe I should be a bit more careful next time," the lemon said to himself and off he went to the second manor number six.
He stopped at the gate and wondered if he was he really that curious but he had to know what was in there. The gate was closed but with a little push, opened easily. And into the great unknown the lemon ventured yet again. If he hadn't known better, he would've sworn that this manor was an exact replica of the first manor number six.
At the door, he knocked and was a bit surprised to hear a pleasant voice say, "Come in." And that he did. The dust and the cobwebs were just as bad as the other manor and this one also appeared to have been in much disuse but there was the voice and he had to know who had invited him in.
A mere handful of steps in and if he had hands, he could've counted them all on one of them and he was stopped by a "BOO!" This boo was definitely meant to scare him and that it did. This time there wasn't an instance of slow motion; there was just full speed, get-your-butt-outa-there dash for the door.
"Do I really want to know what is in the third manor number six?" thought the lemon to himself. It was a rhetorical question but it had to be asked. He knew that he had to know. And off he was to the final manor.
He stood before the gate and paused for a moment and then he decided that it must be done so as he went to push the gate, the gate opened on its own. "This can't be good," the scared lemon thought but in he went. He was pleasantly surprised to see that these grounds had been kept to a Martha Stewart level of perfection and his surprise at least made him feel somewhat better about what he'd find behind the door.
At the door, he paused again but knocked anyway. "Please, come in and make yourself at home," said a voice that was for the most part fatherly in tone. The door swung open and revealed a beautiful Victorian style room. Everything was neat and clean. Not a speck of dust or a cobweb could be seen anywhere.
So, he did as the voice instructed and made himself at home. But there was that feeling, that oh-no-I-gotta-go feeling. And he waited for what was sure to be a heart-stopping experience. There it was floating at him at roughly head level but this was hard to determine since he was lemon-shaped other than the one leg. Into his field of vision, he saw it growing nearer and nearer until he could just barely make out its shape. "Interesting," he thought, "ya know that looks like a cup." And a cup it was, a piping hot cup of tea in fact that floated just before his mouth. He leaned forward and took a sip and it was tea that complimented his lemony goodness oh so nicely.
Feeling much better now, the lemon brought forth the courage to speak aloud. "Thank you ever so much. That really hit the spot," he said.
"You are so welcome," was the reply and as of yet, the lemon didn't know to whom the voice belonged.
"Most people and... ummm... I suppose lemons included though I have to admit that you are the first mobile lemon I've ever seen, would've run off by now. Thank you for staying. It gets awfully lonely in this big manor and how I do so enjoy company," said the voice.
"Maybe it has to do with the fact that the other manors upon this street are inhabited by rather nasty ghosts but you seem different. Can I please see what you look like?" the lemon asked and was a bit curious as to what a ghost actually looked like since he never had a chance to stick around when one was near.
The ghost materialized and appeared to be a somewhat average looking older gentleman with a top hat and said, "Could you please stay a while and chat?"
And the lemon did. And they drank many cups of tea, hot and iced, and dined upon fish and pies. And they chatted and chatted. And the hours turned to days, the days to years and years to a lifetime. And a day came when the lemon was no more and he became a ghost. And the ghost and the lemon chatted and chatted and entertained guests, at least those who actually stayed for more than a few minutes. And the lemon and the ghost lived happily ever after, forever and always, until the last flame was extinguished from the sun...
