A Peanut Morning
How could Clair de Lune put anyone in a rage?
I was having a peanut morning. I don’t like peanuts, so this is not a good thing. At primary school, my headmaster Mr Hancock stood over me and forced me to eat a peanut folded into a lettuce leaf. I threw up on his shoes. If you have eaten peanuts within the last hour, I will try not to be in the same room as you because the smell makes me gag. I love raisins, but I can’t eat raisins if they’ve been knocking around with peanuts, the same way I can’t be friends with people who hang out with racists. Though I once accidentally married a racist, but that is another story.
Getting away from racists (always a good thing) and back to the peanuts, there were no actual peanuts in my peanut morning. They were imaginary peanuts arising out of a metaphor whose greater purpose is to encourage a person to (deliberately, wilfully) create a better life. By ‘better’, I mean happier, more fulfilled, more pleasurable.
