“Sure,” I said, “go ahead.” Actually, it was my last apple and I was kind of saving it, but what was I gonna say—no?
Washing the apple at the kitchen sink, Ray said, “Looks like you’re running low on fruit. Want me to take you to the store and get some?”
“No,” I said. “I’ll get some later in the week.”
“You should get some wax fruit to put in the bowl.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, you know that way, your fruit bowl will never be empty,” Ray replied.
“You can’t eat it,” I said, “and you know what it looks like?”
I’ve never understood people who get wax fruit to put in their fruit bowls. What’s the point of it? It looks all fake and as I said earlier, you can’t eat it. It’s just something else to dust.
I remember my grandmother having wax fruit on the dining room table. I remember being four or five years old and taking the fake fruit out of the bowl and playing with it. I guess that’s something else you can do with it, but I’m not four or five years old anymore.
Taking a bite out of his apple, Ray looked at my fruit bowl again.
“You gonna eat that pear?” He asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m saving it for later.”
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