I go for the biggest, most beautiful fruit. Elimination process, I tell myself, as I catch a glimpse of some shrivelled ones at the bottom of the bag.
“So do I throw the bad ones away?” I ask mom.
“Noooooo!!!” She yells, as if I’d asked if I could just slit myself with the knife. “All can eat! Just need to cut away the bad parts.”
I saw some really spotted ones down there. But she has faith I guess. That one bad mango don’t spoil the whole bunch. And that every one of them has its good.
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