Monday, April 18, 2005

for a brief moment I had a respite. Sitting 8 feet high on a tree branch, picking lemons. I remembered suddenly how useful is physical labour for lulling the pain. But it was an illusion, which soon shattered: the owner of tree came out and was angry with me. I picked too many, way too many, she said. I had no excuses. I offered her all of the lemons, I said I did not have any intention to take what is not mine, and I'm sorry for getting carried away. "I'm going to pickle some, I will come and give you a jar". No need, she quickly blocked my clumsy gesture. Had I lost my grip on normal notions of possession? I didn't know. I don't think she was unreasonable, of course not. And I apologized. But there were so many lemons on that tree, and I picked only the ones on the top... why do I do these things. Cycling back home with a pannier full of lemons, I thought of Pete.


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