Plums.

Plums. They were for sale at the large fruit stand near the bank in Kombo. I stopped to stare. I really wanted a plum. I wondered how I could have forgotten about plums. I wondered how I could have gone a year and some months craving everything from muffins to the Barbie aisle of Toys 'R' Us and not craved plums. My mouth watered.

“A plum is how much?”

The response was some absurd price, over 100 dalasis for a half kilo, but I didn’t lose hope because after all, I didn’t need a half kilo of plums.

“But if I just want one, how much will it cost?”
“No.”
“I cannot buy only one?”
“No, half a kilo or a kilo.”

I sighed and walked away.

-----

In Morocco, however, they allowed me to buy a plum, just one. Ten dirhams. The sticker said it came from Cuba, but I didn't care, and the plum was as delicious as I'd dreamed.