Ihave an orange. it is cold, compact, firm to the touch. its skin curls around the fruit so tightly that it is difficult to peel away. a keen scent leaks from the pores, staining the air wild and sharp and citrus-sweet. it is a mammoth of its breed: if i stare just long enough, it looks like a tiny sumo wrestler who has neither hands nor legs nor appendages of any kind, only a tiny flame-tufted head perched on his titanic body. but i digress. i only meant to say that i have an orange, and i am content.