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We both broke down. He wailed and I sobbed. It was too much, truly it was too much. "I have a story," I said, after a while. "A story?" "Yes."

"Of what use is a story? I'm hungry."

"It's a story about food."

"Words have no calories."

"Seek food where food is to be found."

"That's an idea."

Silence. A famishing silence.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Here. And you?"

"Here."

I heard a splashing sound as an oar dipped into water. I reached for one of the oars I had salvaged from the wrecked raft. It was so heavy. I felt with my hands and found the closest oarlock. I dropped the oar in it. I pulled on the handle. I had no strength. But I rowed as best I could.

"Let's hear your story," he said, panting.

"Once upon a time there was a banana and it grew. It grew until it was large, firm, yellow and fragrant. Then it fell to the ground and someone came upon it and ate it." He stopped rowing. "What a beautiful story!" "Thank you." "I have tears in my eyes." "I have another element," I said. "What is it?"

"The banana fell to the ground and someone came upon it and ate it-and afterwards that person felt better."

"It takes the breath away!" he exclaimed. "Thank you." A pause.

"But you don't have any bananas?"

"No. An orang-utan distracted me."

"A what?"

"It's a long story."

"Any toothpaste?"

"No."

"Delicious on fish. Any cigarettes?" "I ate them already." "You ate them?"

"I still have the filters. You can have them if you like."

"The filters? What would I do with cigarette filters without the tobacco? How could you eat cigarettes?"

"What should I have done with them? I don't smoke." "You should have kept them for trading." "Trading? With whom?" "With me!"

"My brother, when I ate them I was alone in a lifeboat in the middle of the Pacific."

"So?"

"So, the chance of meeting someone in the middle of the Pacific with whom to trade my cigarettes did not strike me as an obvious prospect."

"You have to plan ahead, you stupid boy! Now you have nothing to trade."

"But even if I had something to trade, what would I trade it for? What do you have that I would want?"

"I have a boot," he said.

"A boot?"

"Yes, a fine leather boot."

"What would I do with a leather boot in a lifeboat in the middle of the Pacific? Do you think I go for hikes in my spare time?" "You could eat it!" "Eat a boot? What an idea." "You eat cigarettes-why not a boot?" "The idea is disgusting. Whose boot, by the way?" "How should I know?"

"You're suggesting I eat a complete stranger's boot?" "What difference does it make?"

"I'm flabbergasted. A boot. Putting aside the fact that I am a Hindu and we Hindus consider cows sacred, eating a leather boot conjures to my mind eating all the filth that a foot might exude in addition to all the filth it might step in while shod."

"So no boot for you."

"Let's see it first."

"No."

"What? Do you expect me to trade something with you sight unseen?" "We're both blind, may I remind you."

"Describe this boot to me, then! What kind of a pitiful salesman are you? No wonder you're starved for customers." "That's right. I am."

"Well, the boot?"

"It's a leather boot." "What kind of leather boot?" "The regular kind." "Which means?"

"A boot with a shoelace and eyelets and a tongue. With an inner sole. The regular kind." "What colour?"

"Black."

"In what condition?"

"Worn. The leather soft and supple, lovely to the touch."

"And the smell?"

"Of warm, fragrant leather."

"I must admit-I must admit-it sounds tempting!" "You can forget about it."

"Why?"

Silence.

"Will you not answer, my brother?" "There's no boot." "No boot?" "No."

"That makes me sad." "I ate it."

"You ate the boot?"

"Yes."

"Was it good?"

"No. Were the cigarettes good?" "No. I couldn't finish them." "I couldn't finish the boot."

"Once upon a time there was a banana and it grew. It grew until it was large, firm, yellow and fragrant. Then it fell to the ground and someone came upon it and ate it and afterwards that person felt better."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all I've