Wednesday, March 18

ficus carica (wet dream)



I was in a gourmet fig shop last night. I made my selections from the varieties of the delicious fruit behind the glass. The girl behind the counter moved from shelf to shelf, as my interest darted about.

There were fresh figs, and dried figs, of all different colors. Dates, and similar fruits were there as well, but I focused only on the figs. They were so large and juicy, even the dried figs looked plump and bursting with flavor.

I finally finished putting together my order, and eagerly anticipated digging into the bag. I could almost taste the sweet fruit.

I sprung awake. Confused. Why was my mouth was soaking wet? I recalled the dream of figs, as the cats took turns sniffing my beard, investigating the drool as it dried.

Today was bound to be an interesting day.

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