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?