The sweat rolls off your brow.
Your brow is black.
Not blond like it used to be.
Blond is when you found your sister's capsicum tree in your wardrobe.
You didn't know that capsicums grew on trees.
You confronted her and asked if if was hers.
She confessed and told you that she was actually a he but now a she again.
You didn't understand but nodded anyway.
Both of you took a capsicum.
Hers was rotting but not rotten.
You hate capsicums.
The world is in a recession so you saved it for later.
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