Apples?

Lana sold all her apples. Well, all but two. I took them and wrapped them neatly in a small smooth piece of tinfoil. We placed them delicately on the table that night. We went to bed at various hours.
The next morning those apples were gone. We looked high and low, and yet still couldn't find them. Then the horror set in as we realized the cleaning session from earlier in the day could have been the reason for our missing apples. We spent a painstaking ten minutes carefully removing trash piece by trash piece until we reached the bottom of the bag. That's when the shine caught the corner of my eye. There it was, our tiny piece of tin foil protecting our sweet and dearly missed apples.
Life is good, because we found our apples.