Strength

His strong experienced fingers softened the tight skin. His muscular thumbs massaged deep, the seeds exploded oozing juices. Deeper and deeper the juices gathered. Soon the once tough skin had surrendered to his firm grasp.

He bathed the fruit letting the cold water run through his fingers. The soft fruit was lifted to his mouth and he gently bit through the skin, his taste buds were swamped with flavour.

A work colleague and myself were discussing thsi fine fruit so I brought some in. He is a cracking looking man and always well groomed. I watched him prepare his pomegranate.

We chatted about his childhood in Iran and the fruit trees that grew in his homeland. Amazing stories of huge walnut trees with the green covered nuts. Almonds, dates, plums and pears grewing in central Iran. I told him to write this down so his kids could read it and understand their dads roots.

Juno and I had a fine walk the blueness of the morning sky was superb with banks of low lying fog scattered in the hollows.

Work was a fantasy of fulfilment.

Great lunch with a couple of blocks and a fabby child.

Cycled home picking a Peter Hook concert ticket.