the figs.

"From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and happy home and children, and another fig was a famous author and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Re Lee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Asia and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and off-beat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out."

From Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar"

edited a bit to suit moi.

photo from sweet space.