Seismic Apricots

st antonin/two weeks prior

Do I look different to you?

Why?

I think I’m changing.

We’re all changing sunshine, it’s the remorseless sense of progress that ageing gives us.

Ha!

And we’re none of us getting any younger.

Ha! Again.

What has brought this question on?

Apricots.

Fruit?

I’m worried.

You’re worried about apricots?

Not exactly, it’s more that I’m worried about the changing.

Changing is normal.

Not this time, I think I’m undergoing a seismic shift.

How come?

Cherries.

You’re not making sense.

Ha!

You never do.

Exactly!

Help me a little.

I went to the market on Sunday, I bought apricots – two kilos – I bought apricot jam and I bought apricot yoghurt.

Big deal, this is just a case of apricotalot; it’s a recognised condition.

But you don’t understand, the guy selling apricots was selling cherries too; he had three varieties – starkings, those yellow/whitey type and those other ones.

So?

I didn’t even bother to taste one!

Oh.

Then yesterday I was short-shifting.

With?

A client.

Oh.

And the telephone.

Oh, oh.

Then driving home I thought…..

Oh no!

Yep.

This IS seismic, what did you do when you got home?

Ate an apricot.

An?

Five or six.

Seismic apricotalot.