Sweet, juicy, overripe and moldy, a peach left too long. You try to salvage it, preserve it – jam, tempenade, chutney? - but it falls apart in your hands, running down your forearms, onto the floor. Nothing but sliding drips, the core no longer securing the meat.And all that’s left is that core. Still hard and strong, with no remaining use. Bore a hole through it, a necklace memento? Paint it put it on a windowsill? Child’s play. Nothing for it but the trash.