Herald the heraldry from on High. Whatever that means. I happened to be at a fruit stand and there was a big sale on peaches. Someone happened to be blowing a horn at the time. Someone on a pedestal–the fruit seller of course, trumpeting attention the way he did with his medieval clothing and bowler hat and tendrils of cigar smoke roiling around his beard. He could blow a horn as well as anything.

I bought an extra batch of peaches that day. Hell, if I know what I’ll do with all of them. I don’t bake or particular like peaches. But other people do. Especially the fruit seller. And that’s good enough for me.