My personal, pre-emptive prejudice against cherries has, previously, prevented a proper appraisal of the berry. But, being at an orchard and about to pick them for days, perhaps weeks, I gave them a better chance, and how happy I am! I loved just about everything about them.
The initial burst of blood from the first bitemark. Ripping the flesh away as if off a bone from the pip. The soft concentrated innards, pregnant with juice and sweetness. And finally the last tear and chew, leaving the husk of stone and stem, still one, the eating evidenced only by my five reddened fingertips.
The way I eat them is so delicate and time-consuming it prevents me from ever tiring.
6. You broke my jandal but then helped me fix it
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