Narrated by Folly Blaine.

When I recovered, I tried to peel a berenton myself. The skin of the fruit seemed to harden wherever my fingers landed, showed sharp scales everywhere I moved my thumb, made a bloody mess of my hand. When at last I wrestled the flesh out, it tasted of nothing at all. The flavor of a berenton is determined entirely by its surroundings. Alas, in Rialynas I came to find that I was the same.

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Read “Ten Fruits and Other Memories of Rialynas” by AnaMaria Curtis, in Issue #353

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AnaMaria Curtis is from the part of Illinois that is very much not Chicago. She’s the winner of the LeVar Burton Origins & Encounters Writing Contest and the 2019 Dell Magazines Award. In her free time, AnaMaria enjoys starting fights about 19th century British literature and getting distracted by dogs. You can get in touch or find more of her work at or on Twitter at @AnaMCurtis.

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