Generally

Generally, he was himself a tomato. He had a tomato colored hat that he had worn to the festival, he had a tomato colored bedspread upon his bed, he had dreamed of a yellow tomato and a green tomato, and he had a little garden on his top story apartment’s patio that screamed tomatoes.

The man was not important it seemed, as he had very few guests at his flat and not many big ideas, or rather he was very important indeed but nobody including himself had noticed. Sometimes, however, a fat cat that lived next door in his neighbor Mildred’s flat was found to be wandering about his patio as if in search of a bird.

By noon the man had completely forgotten that he was generally a tomato and began to incline himself towards his favored project, which was the design of a new kind of barn, and for this he would have to finish his brunch.

All well and good, he thought to himself, except that I have not even made a single phone call to my next door neighbor Mildred, nor received one from her, and in so thinking he briefly forgot about an idea for how he could streamline and simplify the process of his designs.