My aunt said watermelon would make this perfect.
Yeah, pomegranate would make mine perfect, I responded.
Before I knew it, I had a fourth of a pomegranate before my very eyes.
Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird. It's a plane. No, it's SuperAunt!
How in the world did she pull that off?
My aunt had been storing the pomegranate for, at least, a month and it had maintained its freshness.
I was so freakin' touched that my aunt would share her last pomegranate with me.
Her offering reminded me of a poem in Henry Dumas' Knees of a Natural Man.
give the other away