My hands cry in joy as the lemon passes over them,
And my legs find themselves shaking.
3 hours of squeezing and labor, and finally, we've made it.
I bend down to hold my brother and lift him to the door.
I gulp a sip of the fresh lemons and oranges, and suddenly, I'm thirsty for even more.
I push the throttle quickly still. "I'm working it," I whisper.
A delightful laugh escapes my brother's lips and I'm thirsty for more.
I tickle him till he falls to ground, and then I pick him up again.
His delightful smile lights up my insides, and so I work faster,
Gulping it down as it pours into my mouth. I hungrily squeeze harder, and my brother laughs.
"You're paining yourself," He says quickly, and takes it from me.
But I refuse to let go, and smile down at him. My hands knead the lemon's core and skin together.
"Peel," I instruct, and so he does so,
Working up a rhythm I hadn't seen before.
Finally, I throw the empty skins to the side, grabbing an orange and shaving it with all my might.
I shove it instinctly in my mouth, and my brother jumps back, laughing. I spill a little on my blouse and my hand wipes it off.
"You think we're done, brother?" I ask, handing a lemonade to a kind gentleman. I smile, turning over the quarter so it glints in the sun.
"You certainly are," He answers, and I can tell there's no changing his mind.
I smile, laughing, and we come together in a hug.
"We did it brother," I say happily, adding ice to a cup.
"I knew we could," He said. "I'll count. Mother will be so proud."
"~juice~" for the daily prompt my stories never make it, so I don't think this one will either, but thanks for reading anyway!