The banana grew brown age spots. The pear became so watery that we all began to fear an attack of weeping any day. The apples came and went in rapid succession, shining with promise like the James Dean of fruit, before shuffling off this mortal bowl.
We grapes, however, were picked off one by one. Time went slowly for us. Some branches of the family began to look rather bare, members gone before we ever really got a chance to know them, while others worried of growing wrinkly and ugly before fulfilling their purpose in life. I was one of these unlucky lingerers.