But where did said coconut come from? I don't recall ever writing a story about coconuts whereby one might've needed to be acquired for research purposes. I can't imagine why anyone would've ever sent me a coconut in the mail. More to the point, I can't imagine why I would've ever decided to keep a coconut at my desk for--near as I can tell by a bit of lay archaeological dating--four years or so.

And yet, there it sat--undisturbed and unmolested, hidden behind a rank of Sam Adams test beers with blinded labels and a pile of receipts backdated by months and years, just waiting to be found by yours true.

A single coconut. Unexplained and unexplainable. There's probably a deeper meaning to it--something deeply psychological and disturbing. But then again, maybe there's not. Maybe sometimes, a coconut is just a coconut.

Needless to say, I'll be keeping it and moving it right along to my new desk.