Pineapple

 Yesterday, Lisa brought a pineapple and asked me to slice it up. She probably didn’t have much choice, since stores often stock far-from-ripe fruits and berries, so she brought an unripe pineapple—it had no yellow spots, and cutting it was tough. After I sliced it, I ate a few pieces. I love pineapples and can eat a whole one in one sitting, but I couldn’t even manage a quarter of this one—it was too hard and sour. I had to chew it for ages, which made the sourness feel sharper and linger in my mouth longer. The fibers got stuck between my teeth, attacking my gums with their acidity. The taste buds on my tongue felt numb yet overly sensitive at the same time, and it was as if I’d burned my tongue. I tried to dislodge the fibers stuck between my teeth with my tongue, but my tongue hurt too much for that. I realized I’d made a big mistake—not when I started eating this pineapple, but the moment I decided to cut it. It wasn’t ready for it, and with its full-of-life, green appearance, it made that clear to me. It fought from the very beginning, when it first seemed heavy and hard, right until the end, when it burned my throat as it fell into oblivion. But my desire to munch on a little pineapple blinded me—I wasn’t even hungry; I did it just because of my whim, and that’s when I lost. I’m grateful to this pineapple because it reminded me once again how important it is to do everything in its own time, not try to bend that time to fit myself. There are things it’s foolish to try to control, like other people’s minds or time—at least it’s very foolish to try to control such things just for a fleeting whim that means nothing to me.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The World is a Stage, and People are Actors

  Recently, I got a job. Now I’m a security guard. Last night, my work partner picked me up, and we drove from Winnipeg to a small town far north. The journey was long and tiring, especially for my partner, who had to drive the whole way since company policy doesn’t allow me to drive the service vehicle with a learner’s permit. We talked a bit on the way, but it was enough for me to see him as a good person. When we arrived in the town, we went straight to the shopping center, which was our assignment. It was located in the center of the town, and although the shopping center was quite small, for this town, it was enormous—so enormous that about a third of the space was completely unused. There were a few stores, a pharmacy, a city office, and a school with a gym. Probably, there are no other stores in this town. I was surprised that the pharmacy sold alcohol besides medicines and some goods barely related to pharmacy—I was told it’s the only point of sale for alcohol in town, desp...
Read more

Ghost in the Hotel

  It was my second day working as a security guard at a shopping mall in a small town in northern Manitoba. My partner and I arrived at the site, and our first task was to do a patrol (checking all the points located in different parts of the mall). Each point had an NFC chip that needed to be scanned through a mobile app. There were many points, so I volunteered to go alone to memorize their locations faster and better. One of the closed but still guarded areas was an old two-story hotel. It had plenty of interesting spots: a kitchen, storage rooms filled with junk, a bar, something like a conference area, service rooms, and, of course, lots of guest rooms. To remember where all the points were, I was as focused and attentive as possible. When I climbed to the second floor via the side emergency exit stairs, I felt something strange. After taking a few steps down the corridor toward the opposite exit, the feeling intensified. I didn’t understand what was happening and stepped slow...
Read more