mango

I was in a Mexican restaurant in Topeka, Kansas when a man taught me how to peel an avocado. We had driven downtown, past the hate signs, through the empty streets. A town without pedestrians.

This is the way you do it, he demonstrated with his empty hands. This is how you separate the skin from the meat.

It might’ve been a mango.

I learned how to peel something and then I forgot.

It was something about the texture of the skin beneath your fingers.

Something about the flesh beneath the skin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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