Apples

So the hamster goes on. He sees a shortcut, but its floor is made of fire. Thinking his soles are fireproof, he marches on. But his soles get burnt. He writhes his pain. Curses his stupidity. Faults his faith. Swears never to do it again.

Then the fire vanishes. He crosses the path. Sooner than others. Eh, not such a bad bargain after all, he says smugly.

His soles begin to heal. The skin grows stronger. May be now he'll be fire proof?

He moves on. Another shortcut of fire.

Dilemma time. Bring on the metaphors.

He falls in love. Oh joy.

But the apples spill again.