He wanted to write something cherry. Something about a red berry on top. Some of those cherry berries that you find in a can and put on top of whipped cream from a canister. Canberries on top of canister cream. Something like that. Something about the strange industrial reworking of something that once was hanging in all its innocence in someone’s fruit tree. Something about the industrialised farmer who owned the industrialised tree. Something about someone's life living among those trees in an area of industrialised farming. That someone could be one of the farmer's children. Something like that. Something cheery.