J U I C E


“Well how old are you child?” she asked.

I smiled, waving goodbye and walking away without answering her.

An older woman and I started a conversation at the citrus bins in produce that didn’t end until the parking lot. She had me in stitches about my choices, something about not being juicy enough to squeeze. I ended up buying them anyway, after telling her that youth and old age often get confused for firmness of skin versus wisdom, and though rarely they go together, it’s the sweetest juice imaginable when it does.