I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree,
starving to death,
just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose.
I wanted each and every one of them,
but choosing one meant losing all the rest,
and, as I sat there, unable to decide,
the figs began to wrinkle and go black,
and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.






J.