Fahrenheit 86

It finally reached the temperature where fruit rots. In plastic bags, sitting on the counter, or in a solution of mild hydrochloric acid, the result is always the same. Flies congregate, dogs salivate and beggars smile.
But not me. Not this time.
Unwashed, fuzzy from nature and fuzzy from mold, tangy like citrus and DDT I will consume them.
Let my immune system be warned.