I chose it because it had a stem and for it’s yellowish orange colour, I liked the contrast of the dark green of the stalk. I carried it home in my hand, although it was small it didn’t fit in my duffle coats pocket.
I walked home past the oblong pond, three seagulls followed me stalking behind me aggressively looking at the squash in my hand and squawking as I they might try and take it away from me. They stayed on the water when I was clear of the pond; I still had the squash.
My head phones were the same orange as the squash and both clashed against the dark navy blue of the coat. Patti smiths distinctive voice echoed out of the headphones into my brain as I wondered on down the leafy littered lanes.
Pigeons Drink Coffee 