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Grapes
Once in a while, I pack a bag of grapes to eat at work. I enjoy grapes and have a big appreciation for them. But then, more often than I’d like, I’d find a grape or two with a bit of soft malicious white fuzz, slightly busted open and oozing, and contaminating the rest of its vine of perfectly healthy delicious grapes. It annoys me because then I think of that movie Contagion… the one with Gwyneth Paltrow where a deadly virus spreads like crazy and societal order breaks down with mass panic and is on a successful path of destroying the world as we know it…
And somehow, all the grapes in the bag and the very many already in my stomach are diseased with spores of god knows what fungus. They were in close proximity of each other. Touching even. No doubt they’re all infected. And that nasty tender looking purple ball of fuzzy rot is the damn cause of me having to force myself to enjoy my bag of otherwise cool and refreshing grapes. And simply rewashing the grapes won’t do. Cause disease goes deeper. But yet I eat them… somewhere deep down, I know the grapes are fine and I won’t die… but the stupid gross white fuzz fungus grape had to ruin it.