The Fruit Ghoul

The afternoon rumbles began, but I came prepared... resisting the siren call of the vending machine I reached across my desk for a pear - ripened to perfection. As I did so, I noticed that it felt just slightly warm to the touch. Thinking about it the reason for it, it comes to me that the pear is warm for the same reason that I am warmer than my surroundings: it is still alive, still respiring, the skin a healthy green-brown. Pensively, I quarter and core it with a sharp knife - really, it ought to be stunned first, but where is the head? I waited a decent interval for the thing to expire, but no vital organs had been pierced: this was going to take too long... hunger and a waft of volatile organics overcame moral scruples, and I found myself munching its living flesh. Delicious…