Three oranges intimately conferring – or so it would seem. Newly here and keeping their distance from everything else. But they have clearly lost contact with one another. Nothing genuinely links them together. Even as they seem to touch, they drift apart. One hangs back and gazes up towards the ceiling, its blue label a subtle barrier to communication. The other two appear more clearly aligned, their navels leaning into a common centre – an imaginary point of contact – but they are simply posing. Despite their orientation and healthy rotundity, their skin does not actually touch. The slight gap between them attests to the lie that they care for each other. They are as isolated as the rest of the fruit – the pears that passively give in, the lone apple that gradually grows brown. The fruit are simply placed here to disappear. One by one they are eaten – or possibly discarded. Even in summoning the figure of the holy trinity, their society is an illusion.

This entry was posted in Writing and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *