Orange Blossom
Angelina crushed the orange blossoms further down into the bucket. "Get used to it." She stamped harder with the knuckles of her fist. After another hour or so, the bucket was filled, and she retreated to the press.
She took her place in line, between Monique and Sheila, as they retreated from the fields and the dying sunlight. Tonight the press would run again. Tonight rebirth was assured.
Each in turn tipped her bucket into the massive wooden barrel. Angelina had only seen another vessel like it once in her past. As a small child, her father took her into the vast cellar of the Regent where towering oak creaked with aging wine.
The procession continued around the lip of the open barrel and down the steep staircase to the floor below. Each girl took a small chunk of wood and tossed it below the boiling mixture suspended above.
THE END