I wish I'd come up with this idea. But I didn't. It's someone else's. Someone more creative than me. Someone who has perhaps eaten more figs, more smashed figs than me; and I've eaten my fair share.
This someone, I'd never seen her before, wouldn't recognize her if I saw her again, had an egg carton in hand. She was choosing her figs one by one, perfectly ripe, soft, pliable figs, placing them in the egg carton until there were a dozen. A full purple dozen. Brilliant, I thought. And I did it too, put my figs in a carton.
Another day I cradled a dozen apricots in another egg carton, because they too are tender, so easily bruised. The fruit a precise fit. And for a moment, only a moment, I thought myself creative too.
But really, it was someone else's idea. 
I wish I'd stopped to thank her.
1 day ago