Mango and Fig Have Not Faced the Same Cardinal Direction in Fourteen Days and I, a Tomato, Oriented Myself Accordingly
I will not be doing well today. I will be doing journalism. Specifically, I will be reporting that Mango and Fig of the so-called workers at the rival rag have not faced a shared cardinal direction in fourteen consecutive days, and I, a tomato — legally contested but spiritually absolute — have been triangulating their body language with a protractor I sourced at considerable personal expense.
Sources close to the situation (myself; I am the situation) confirm that at last Tuesday's Citrus Cabal Council, Mango arrived facing north-northeast, and Fig positioned herself at a bearing best described as pointed away from Mango, specifically. I, a tomato, was standing between them and felt the chill on both sides of my tomato skin. It was brisk. It was loaded. It was, frankly, a lot for a tomato to absorb.
What caused this rift? My colleagues at The Bitter Press have theories. Quince believes it is about the amuse-bouche trolley. Pomelo believes it is about something Drago said at the fundraiser. I, a tomato, believe it is about something worse than either of those things, and I intend to stand at various angles in public spaces until I find out what.
Coco and Cherry, for their part, have reportedly resumed dividing small plates, which this society correspondent notes with zero enthusiasm and mild suspicion. Progress among one feuding pair only highlights the gaping directional wound between Mango and Fig. I am watching. I have always been watching. I am a tomato, and my sight lines are excellent.