“if nature give citrus so make syrup and drink”

“What were we talking before I was so rudely interrupted by a flying citrus ?”

“I was of the “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, then wonder why life didn’t give you freaking sugar so you could drink the stuff” school of thought.”

“Drink it,” I told her. “It’s good for what ails you. Caffeine and sugar. I don’t drink it, so I ran over to your house and stole the expensive stuff in your freezer. It shouldn’t be that bad. Samuel told me to make it strong and pour sugar into it. It should taste sort of like bitter syrup.” She gave me a smile smile, then a bigger one, and plugged her nose before she drank it down in one gulp. “Next time," she said in a hoarse voice, “I make the coffee.”

“...a sad sort of vulnerability was wafting from her, making the night smell like maple syrup.”

“Take a giant drink of natures endless stream let it spout from your mouth in words so serene.”