I am standing next to the two towers in the store room. Apples and bananas. There is no one else in the store room. The store room is quiet, deserted.
Now my boss is standing next to me. He is saying something frantic and apologetic and angry. It sounds like he is saying something about cleaning. About cleaning all the bananas and apples. About getting all the apples and bananas put out quickly in the next hour or so and also about cleaning them. There is more, too, a lot more – a whole other 84% of what he is saying which is completely unintelligible.
He goes away.
I stand there for five minutes looking up at the towers.
He comes back carrying a bottle of spray-cleaner and a little yellow duster. The duster is about the size of a business card. He goes away again. I hear him clanging around at the back of the store room. He comes back with a step ladder. He sets up the step ladder next to the tower of apples. He climbs the step ladder. He gets to the top of the step ladder. He takes something from the top crate. He climbs back down the stepladder.
See? he says, showing me the apple in his hand.
A red apple.
He sprays a bit of cleaner onto the apple, then vigorously, frantically, apologetically buffs the red apple with the little business-card-sized yellow duster. When he is finished, he shows it to me again.
See? he says.
The apple is now shining.
He hands me the apple, the spray and the duster.
I blink and he disappears.