" Elizabeth went from stand to stand as if I wasn't there, exchanging cash for heavy bags of produce: pink-and-white-striped beans, tan-colored pumpkins with long necks, purple potatoes mixed with yellow and red. When she was busy paying for a bag of nectarines, I stole a green grape off an overflowing with my teeth.
"Please!" exclaimed a short, bearded man I hadn't noticed. "Sample! They're delicious, perfectly ripe." He tore off a bunch of grapes and placed them in my wrapped hands.
"Say thank you," Elizabeth said, but my mouth was full of grapes.
Elizabeth bought three pounds of grapes, six nectarines, and a bag of dried apricots. On a bench facing a long, grassy field we sat together, and she held out a yellow plum a few inches from my lips. I leaned forward and ate it out of her hand, the juice dripping down my chin and onto my dress. "

― Vanessa Diffenbaugh , The Language of Flowers