Photograph

She stands frozen to the spot and stares into the fruit-basket. There’s a bunch of bananas with three on top and two curled underneath. There’s four apples right on the other side of the basket, as if they were trying to avoid the bananas at all costs. Why is she not able to make this simple decision? Her hand moves out, wavers above the fruit, and then moves back again. She’s sure she wants one of them.
  Whilst she stands there she turns her head and looks out onto the garden. It’s mid-July and through the cloudless sky the sun is scorching everything in sight. It reminds her of a photograph of her father.  He was very young, maybe 25, and he wore these shorts which where a bit too short. They were the kind that people often used to wear in the 70’s. He didn’t have a top on and his skin was a radiant bronze. She didn’t remember the photo being taken but she knew it must have been before he left; he didn’t send any photos or letters after he had gone. In one hand he held a football and in the other a half-eaten banana. She thinks she was probably four years old when this picture was taken. He looked like a superhero ready to fly away and save the day. He was full of hope and perfectly immortalized in that picture. She picks up an apple from the basket and bites into it.