The first taste of food in the morning, like first light when you open your eyes, acts as a reminder of a sense forgotten. Each one of these sensual awakenings is part of the process of coming back from the dark sleep world to a reality full of physical possibility. A green grape, as it happens to be, on the morning that I write this. In a white bowl, only half of the bunch is leftover. They are plump and wrapped in thin skin that can barely contain their sweet translucent meat. I regret now, not having savored the moment a little more. Maybe rolling the grape around with my tongue before biting in and chewing it all to mush. But I was not thinking then, until the taste awakened my mind.