Sublime

plums,

saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig-tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at

The sunshine tastes like the strawberries that cascade from their straw-lined beds as June draws to a close. But not all the flavours of summer are as pure. It also tastes of a Twister ice lolly – packaged some place far away, a long time ago, but seasonally hand-picked from the corner shop freezer – and funfair bales of candy floss.