“

But he was always being distracted by other thoughts. He found himself playing a drama in which he cast himself as God and the potatoes as humans. This one he hurled into outer darkness, that one he sent to be garnered home. ‘Well done, thou good and faithful spud, you may go to your reward.’

‘Sinner! Corrupted one. I pluck thee out, I pluck thee out. Look, with a spot I damn thee.’

He wasn’t sure if it was better to be a rotten potato or a healthy one, whether he would rather be safely bunched up in a warm bag with the goody-goodies or be thrown over the side and ploughed back into the soil. One thing was certain, either of those fates was preferable to being God.

”