I was looking rather sour-faced at the lemons on display at the local supermarket. They looked rather sad and lacklustre, too long on display, like forlorn pets in the window of a pet shop that no-one will find a home for.
A fellow shopper suggested that I lift the tray to see if there were fresher lemons lurking underneath. I obliged, feeling drawn into some Saturday morning subterfuge, a chance to engage in a little consumer conspiracy. Goodness knows, the town could do with some excitement. Disappointment – the tray underneath was empty. Lemonless.
It was then that I became aware of activity to my left. The woman’s partner had pulled out a tray of fresh lemons from under the counter. A bright yellow array of happy lemons anyone would be pleased to find a home for. I felt like the member of a successful pack of wolves, working together to catch our prey. Vegetarian wolves in this instance. Maybe this town is getting too small for me or I have been here too long.