Orange You Glad I Wrote?

Dearest Reginald,

I have found the most extraordinary fruit here on my travels in the tropics. It is a nearly perfect sphere, like those little white balls in that sport you keep trying have me play, right down to the little dimples, though it's big enough to fill my hand. There is a skin on the outside, and the locals tend to peel it in such a way that it looks like and elephant. Silly me, you won't know what an elephant is, but I assure you the image is quite correct. I have also seen them peel it into beautiful spirals. I would almost call it art, if the people who created it weren't such savages the rest of the time. The fruit, on the other hand, is amazing. Its skin is a bright color, a sort of mix between red and yellow. If you took your Aunt Madeline's hair color and blended it with the light of the sun, you'd be on the right track. The fruit inside is what is truly amazing. It's sectioned off into pieces shaped like the moon at quarter-full. Each slice has a thin skin, and inside, oh, inside, it has the most flavorful, sweet citrus juice you will ever taste. The slices are a little odd to touch, almost slimy but not quite, though it's worth getting over that feeling when you taste the goodness inside. I shall try my best so send a few along on the next boat home, but for now I hope this letter will suffice. Say good day to Eunice for me, and let her know that I hope to see the both of you when I come back in the summer.

Farewell,
Alfred Flockton