Last night I had a romantic encounter with a mango, 2 of them actually.
I came home late, tired, exhausted and in no mood to read the news or write anything. I sat on the couch watching a late re-run of The Colbert Report and stared at my computer as it sat sprawled out on my lap. As I flipped through news pages I felt my eyes getting heavy, the days events and subsequent exhaustion had begun to catch up to me. The hurdle of blogging duties crashed down upon my shoulders and I quickly grew complacent and content with not writing for the following day. My eyes flickered with what would surely be my last conscious moments of the day. I slumped over on the couch and caught a glimpse of the kitchen through one eye fighting frivolously to stay awake when my lone eye intercepted the sight of two reddish and gold orbs laying on the kitchen counter, two mangos laying in a modestly assembled fruit basket. They were glowing bright and shining in the glare of the kitchens florescent light. Suddenly my right eye opened wide as if the other eye had said, “wake up, you’ve got to see this!” Now my eyes were intently focused on these two beautiful and succulent mangos, they laid there basked in unique beauty like they were sent down to me by the fruit gods. They called out to me, “take me…take me now!!” I jumped up with curiosity inspired energy and lurched over to the kitchen counter with my last bit of energy just in time to clutch the two mangos in my arms like a lost love. I squeezed and caressed them, investigating their firmness and rejoiced when I discovered they were at the very peak of ripeness. I looked down at them with disbelief on my face and felt my heart pour out, could these bastions of tropical flavor really be mine!?
Finally my amour and me were alone and ready to embrace in the heats of passion, all I had to do was set the mood. Waisting no time I quickly dimmed the lights, put on the best of Barry White and closed the drapes in order to keep out preying eyes. I sat down with a plate and knife and began to strip my lover of her cumbersome skin. My undressing was meticulous, I started at the naval and inserted the very tip of my knife being careful not to pierce the tender meat which lay beneath. Each stroke was surgical and delicate, dividing the skin into quadrants. After incising the skin of one mango I moved on to its twin being careful not to disturb their symmetry. Finally when I had two perfectly lanced mangos I was ready to strip the skin, slowly and cautiously being careful not to separate any portions of meat from the whole body. My operation was flawless and I now had two bright, yellow and naked mangos laid out in front of me, teasing me, ready for me to take advantage.
Not willing to wait another second, I grabbed both mangos, one in each hand and pressed them up to my lips. My teeth sunk into the sweet juicy flesh and released a burst of juice so delicious that it would have served as pleasure enough. I felt my heart race and my skin heat up as I slurped and molested every square inch of luscious produce. When I had devoured all the meat I sat hunched over my plate examining the seeds for any unclaimed tissue and drinking the juice off my fingers and plate. I laid back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling trying to catch my breath, drunk with mango.
The next morning I awoke in a haze, my fingers still sticky with the fruit of the gods, I was still high on vitamin C. My lover was gone and the only evidence left of our passionate exchange…two bare seeds on my plate and the stained splash of mango juice on the white couch.