She had imagined that she had escaped one of his polemics when the
coffee was served and the last of the seven courses had been cleared.
The old merchant, who generalized his many successes to the validity
of his many and often innocuous opinions, was known for his
cumbersome oratories. Indeed, the man was running out of dinner
guests. She knew though, as he took up the plump Granny Smith apple
in his skeletal fingers, that the moon and stars would replace the
purples and reds of the setting sun before she would be allowed to
depart.
"The Grandmother Smith apple," he intoned, fevered eyes
fixed on its polished skin," is the greatest of fruit. Those in
the orange business would hand you fact after fact about the
superiority of their fruit. In fact, they may gnash their teeth at me
for what I am about to say." He took a deep but rattling breath,
and his gaze fell on her. "They, of course, are wrong. Here is
why."
No comments:
Post a Comment