
This time, I was brought back to the magic fruit shop by a sudden craving for actual meat-like Danish/Irish bacon instead of the rectangular cuttings of pure fat that America attaches to the word. I had to smile to myself when I realized that thanks to our recent life transition, I had got there in less than
Infinite Dreams' playing time (6:09) instead of the hours-long expedition that it used to be. A quick look around the boxes of weird things and I was home again in time for breakfast.
( What's my fruit? )I've actually just found a Blogspot journal called
Fruitectives that's doing this exact same thing, but I'd like to think that my effort is still worthwhile due to not using the word "nommability".