Cat Metaphor

David hands Vello the peach.

The covid marshal approaches.

Vello holds up the peach.

What's this? asks the covid marshal.

We believe this peach is infested with fruit fly, says Vello. And therefore, I'm handing it in.

I can't take delivery of a peach infested with fruit fly, says the covid marshal. But two of you are sitting in unapproved seats.

I think you should deal with the peach first, says Vello.

The marshal considers. Should she deal with the peach first or the flouting of seating restrictions?

T S Eliot has not noticed what is happening in the back row.

He is explaining how he came up with a metaphor.

(The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window panes etc.)

I like to observe the habits of cats, says T S Eliot. And therefore when describing a yellow fog, I used a cat metaphor. And the yellow smoke also......

Hush, says the woman who summoned the covid marshal. I can't hear the speaker. 

I'm dealing with a seating problem, says the marshal.

And a peach problem, says Vello.

I would prefer it if you'd deal with the noise problem, says the woman.

The covid marshal takes the peach and walks across to a tent outside which is a rubbish bin.

She drops the peach in (an ill-advised method of disposal).

And returns to the back row, to deal with the seating  problem.

But she does not need to.

The woman has vacated her seat, and moved closer to the front, as another woman has realised that she must have sat down under the wrong shade cloth, and ducked off to find Richard Fidler.

This sort of thing happens at Writers' Week frequently.

David has moved into the seat of the woman who missed the cat metaphor.

Arthur moves into the seat recently occupied by David.

Leaving a gap between himself and Vello.

Arthur is now in a pink dot seat, but this does not matter, since he lives a charmed life.

In the bin, a fruit fly rubs its back against a crumpled piece of paper.