Annals of fruit, continued

Love the one you're with, they say. We are with plantains. Slowly the other foodstuffs fall away. The pasta, the rice, even. Bread is long gone, with the oven broken. Leaving us with yautia, yucca, purple tubers, yellow and white tubers, hairy and misshapen in their bins, embraced by the locals. We are being drawn inexorably into a different orbit, in which our ways change. Habit gets shucked off. Eating fried plantains for breakfast because there is really nothing else around--this feels almost like a small, individual revolution, a little mental breakthrough. Not to overstate the case. But what next? What other new thoughts are going to wedge their way into our consciousness, and soon?