I bought a nice loaf of GF cinnamon-raisin bread. These were the first two pieces out of the package. I know they are trying to tell me something about life — the tension of comedy and tragedy, the yin and yang of daily living. Or maybe it’s a short chapter in the saga of loneliness in which our protagonist is warned about the dangers of personifying slices of breakfast toast.

There’s a certain Muppet quality to these two. Since I was recently in Ireland, I’ve named them Diarmuid and Gráinne.

Sadly, they are gone now.