The banana

The banana in its sluttish yellow overcoat eyed me from across the hall. The way it draped its slender ripe figure provocatively across that pawn of an apple. The way it affectedly brushed past the orange. Oh that banana had it coming, and don’t let no one tell you different.

I pretended I hadn’t noticed. I went on about my business. I constructed a look of busy action at the computer face. Staring into the abyss of an excel spreadsheet displaying tawdry accounting jargon such as ‘costs’ and ‘total’ when all I could really think about was that fucking banana.

Tony Blair famously said education three times. And of course, I, in my way, am painfully aware of the simplicity of the mechanisms of it. The straight forwardness of combining two objects like this sickens me even as I spew it, although I must admit that that ‘even’ is out of place given the tautology.

But at least I stopped it in the middle, even if my intention was to disregard your generous attention and to thank you for visiting by flippantly giving you nothing of worth.

Unfortunately this is not a wedding and I can’t get one of the band members to give me a late, drunken, and drummed out joke announcer.

It has all fallen to pieces. I’m not quite sure where it happened but its lost now for ever.

Do you follow?