Black Magic, anyone?

There were lemons outside her door. Little bright yellow ones, clean and freshly washed.

“Please tell me we will now have lemonade in the morning, instead of milk.” her teenage son implored, picking up one of the lemons with interest.

“That would be great indeed Mom.” his sister piped in, “we can even have lemon tarts instead of corn flakes!”

Her husband looked up from the newspaper. “Why did you buy so many of these sweetheart? Seems to me you bought the whole barrow.”

She scowled, shaking the lemon off her son’s hand. “Don’t you touch them! And we are certainly not using these. I will throw them into the rubbish heap right now.”

“Are you insane?” her husband rushed to her as she proceeded to wear hand gloves.

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