I was taking the Christmas tree down on twelfth night and felt ‘inspired’ (for want of a better word) with the following fictitious exchange:
‘A lovesick banana? ‘ Sue queried. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how such a thing feels.
‘Neither can I,’ Jan sighed.
‘So how can you claim to feel like one?’
‘I don’t know. The words just seemed to fit somehow.’
I thought it might be the opening few lines of a story. But help! Whatever could make someone feel like this and what do they do about it?
Rosalie Squires 
The love that could never be.
Reckon it has to be. But it’s still in the melting pot at present. Had wondered about one of those 100 word flash fiction stories as a possibility.
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