It hung on the wall seemingly harmless. It was territorial, never attacked me once. But when I wasn't looking? It was vicious, ruthless and sneaky. Ask my friends. You might walk by it three or four times and it would ignore you; but on that fifth time, it would tear at you, rip your shirt and not let go; gouging your skin, slicing you to the bone. It was my fruit basket: white wrought iron with curls and twists galore. Tre's chique: A fahnsay home for my produce.
For YEARS this innocent, lacy "basket" invited one and all to sample the tasty wholesome fruits I bought and put in its three tiers. No one ever told me how cruel and mean it was. Then one morning one of my friends walked by to refill his coffee cup. I did not witness the attack itself but only heard him yelp and this dry almost powdery ripping noise as the basket latched on to him. At first my three headed dragon was content with his shirt, but when he failed to recognize the "polite warning-Don't come in here..." it was giving, it went all out and dug in. While my friend tried to escape, it became as troublesome as removing a fishhook. "Medusa" wouldn't budge. The entire monster was not about to give up its human catch and jumped off the wall sending my limes, lemons, apples and a few stray kiwi flying like little grenades.
"Whoa~ Hey!!!" (thump thump thump)
We all stood there stunned. The basket was twisted and dead. We looked at it.
"I hated it. It bit me every time I walked by. There. I've said it and I'm glad."
"Me too. Tess, I'm sorry 'bout the wall, but it had to go. It would have killed us all"
"It's okay guys. Really." but I was a little sad. My pretty little fruit basket was gone.
"Want us to fix it? Buy another one?"
"No. We'll figure it out. Now who wants a round of peroxide and Princess band aids on the house???"
"Ooooh I do! I DOOOO!"
I let it go out Monday with the trash. Some trash pickers came and took her away. I hope they put her to good use holding mail, cradling informative pamphlets, or offering gauze and cloth tape for injuries incurred. I think I hear her now...
"Go ahead. Take one."
Enjoy your day and may you be band-aid free.
