Props are used in rituals and jokes. Hers was a mango. Each time she peeled us one, she’d say the only messless place to eat the fruit was sitting naked in the bathtub. Naked but we didn’t know it, two peeled mangos bathing in the park’s summer-heated fountain. That day our clothes walked off with some stranger, we got home okay, but realized in the elevator, too blushed to fight over the button up. We shared the mango but fought for the pit, who could shave the last or most meat off with their teeth. When we split sodas the one who took the last sip was accused of drinking the whole thing. I’m sorry, I thought I found a new way to sit shiva but I can’t import the ritual or the memories as fruit. I’ve taken all our mangoes & locked myself in the bathroom. Don’t bother me, I’m not proper till I’ve finished them. Be patient, I’m peeling careful not to waste the fruit. I’m sorry I’m not taking visitors. I’m running the tub with mango juice thicker than water. I need something to cover up my shoulders. I’m ridiculous? You forgot the story of grandma’s favorite joke! This ritual is about memory, going back over it and placing you where you belong.