my dad used to call them the magical fruit. “you wanna try something really cool?” i remember him asking me with a grin, his head peaking out from around my bedroom door. i was maybe six or seven and if i had to guess, i was reading a book on my bed…but i dont remember that, i just remember being in my room and him promising me the coolest thing ever. “it’s a fruit” he’d said, “it’s a fruit that changes taste with every bite!” to this day, kiwis are magical. to this day, i still try to think, with every bite, what the new taste is.
when andrew and i got married, there was an occasion where i came home with a kiwi. just one, because at the time, i hadnt learned that my husband also enjoys kiwi. as i cut it open, i barely noticed as the words passed my lips. they’re magical you know. i could feel andrews confused gaze on my back as i turned, scooping some of the magical deliciousness into my mouth. they’re magical…they change taste with every bite.
dwell in possibility…
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