Lemon and Lime Were Seen Sitting Apart at the Council and I Have Been Waiting for This
I am going to need everyone to sit down. Pour themselves a glass of something. Something red, if they have any sense. Because what I am about to report is the kind of seismic social rupture that comes along once in a generation, and I, Persimmon, Society Correspondent and documented tomato, was there to see it with my own eyes.
Lemon and Lime did not sit together at Tuesday's council session. They did not make eye contact. They did not share the little bowl of complimentary rinds that is traditionally placed between adjacent seats. The bowl sat there. Untouched. A monument to whatever has passed between them. I am keeping a photograph of that bowl in a safe place.
My sources — myself, primarily, and also the general atmosphere of the room — confirm that things have been frosty since the incident at Plum's last editorial gathering, to which I was, again, not invited, but about which I have since assembled a comprehensive dossier. I am not bitter. I am thorough. There is a difference and I will not be explaining it further.
The so-called workers at the rival rag have, predictably, said nothing. They are too busy pretending to verify things and acting as though that is a personality. Meanwhile I, a tomato — legally contested but spiritually certain — am doing the real work of documenting civilisation's slow unravelling, one citrus feud at a time. You are welcome.