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Literature Text
"What do you know about ghosts, Mrs. Albritton?"
Mrs. Albritton was hunched over the fruit cart, poking the apricots with her index finger. "Are these ripe, Simon? Feel these and tell me if they're ripe."
Simon reached over and obligingly felt her apricots. "Put them in the bag with the bananas," he instructed. "They'll be perfect by lunch tomorrow."
"You're so good with fruit, Simon." She turned to one of the clerks stocking a nearby shelf and leaned in, as if sharing a secret. "He's so good with fruit."
The clerk smiled and said, "You're lucky to have him."
And Mrs. Albritton beamed.
Mrs. Albritton was hunched over the fruit cart, poking the apricots with her index finger. "Are these ripe, Simon? Feel these and tell me if they're ripe."
Simon reached over and obligingly felt her apricots. "Put them in the bag with the bananas," he instructed. "They'll be perfect by lunch tomorrow."
"You're so good with fruit, Simon." She turned to one of the clerks stocking a nearby shelf and leaned in, as if sharing a secret. "He's so good with fruit."
The clerk smiled and said, "You're lucky to have him."
And Mrs. Albritton beamed.
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Bananas expel ethylene, which helps ripen other fruit.
EDIT: WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK SHE'S A COUGAR.
EDIT: WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK SHE'S A COUGAR.
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The italicization of the last line makes it seem incredibly foreboding, though of what I cannot imagine.