I guess they saved the worst for last. I am ripe to end my very late last Writober entry on ripe. Ripe is a word that feels yellow to me. I think of mangoes and avocados falling down in yards across Miami from May to August. Extra heapings of raccoon poop in the grass early in the season. I remember one summer when we got heavy rain at my uncle’s house in Hollywood, Florida. We got in his ’71 Suburban and drove around the flooded alleys and streets. He helped people with flooded engines and deployed his sons to retrieve floating avocados and mangoes. I just watched it all from the passenger seat. I’m more of a meat eater. 

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