Monday, September 10, 2007

A Tale of Two Plums

A misnomer, actually, as there were far more than two plums:

The time had come to take a stand against the plum rebellion. Those innocent plums just seemed to multiply, declaring sovereignty in the precious free space of my fridge. Their disobedience could be suffered no longer.

And so:

they found themselves mercilessly quartered and then quartered again, thrust into a hot pot and covered in sugar and a substance known as pectin;

cooked until they no longer resembled themselves; the precious juices forced from their variegated flesh;

forced into strange glass vials and subjected to astonishing heat, their bacterial breeding ground obliterated.

At last, the indignities almost too much to endure, they found themselves trapped, amidst strange surroundings, unable to move or escape.

An ignoble end, perhaps, for the once mighty plum, and yet somehow far more honest than the tribulations suffered by some of their brethren who were viciously diluted with cream and frozen.


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