On a hot day, sitting under the coconut tree, you looked up and see the a bundle of yellow hanging from tree. You do not feel like climbing that bloody tree yourself. So you seek out the local tree climber and with promise of a shot of rum, he scaled the tree and got you the coconuts. With one swing of the cutlass, the top falls off, you tilt it to you head and swallow the sweet nectar. Ahhh yes, the taste of the tropical. You look down at the rest of them, what will you do. You gather them up, take them home, sit one in the fridge. Later that evening, just after the sun set, and all you can see is the shadows of birds flying around in your back yard, you sit on the three concrete steps, close your eyes, feel the early evening breeze tickle your skin. You close your eyes and remembered that coconut in the fridge. You jumped up excited. You retrieved it, it shell cold to the touch. You cut the top off, stopped for a second, “A glorious idea, a glorious idea!” You muttered to yourself. You walk over to you cabinet, get out a bottle of Gin, Pour some into the coconut and stir. Make your way back to you yard and sit, watching the moon hover over the valley. Ahhhh, to relax, just relax.