It invites with its plumpness, its electrifying color. Touch me, bite in. I am orange and red, like mangoes and strawberries. You can imagine the sweet flavor, practically feel the juice dripping down your chin. Even needles, which usually would repel, have softened, at least in appearance. They read more like spools of soft yarn than prickles. And even if it hurts a bit to reach in, isn't the taste that awaits worth a little pain? Especially when the window for perfect ripeness is so short-lived?
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