Nectar-serene

I just consumed the best nectarine of my life. Or maybe it wasn't the best nectarine of my life, but a combination of hunger for something sweet and the absence of a pint of ice cream in my freezer, that leads me to make such a proclamation.

Normally, the fruit I purchase at the grocery store doesn't ever make it into my belly. I'll spend careful amounts of time selecting the perfect piece of fruit, void of bruises, dents and other imperfections. Once home, the fruit is placed in the fridge, a.k.a. "the place fruit goes to die."

I simply forget it's there. Or I'll remember it's there and then I go to eat it and it's not ripe enough, therefore allowing it to linger a few days more in the fridge, only to rediscover an uninticing, fuzzy growth that has overtaken the fruit.

But this time it was different...

I purchased four nectarines at the Publix, when I went grocery shopping with Lana, two Sunday's ago. I had eaten three of them, as of last Friday afternoon. But my attempts to eat the fourth, and final nectarine, had previously been thwarted, as the little bugger wouldn't ripen. It's almost as if it knew it's destiny, to become a simple sugar in my digestive system.

Truth is, I had forgotten about that nectarine. Until tonight.

I literally yelped with joy when I realized what the wadded up paper bag contained, hiding in the back of my fridge. And I actually talked to it, while I rinsed it and cut it into perfect, juicy slices. (That's what happens when you live alone---you talk to your fruit).

The rest is comestible history.