Yearning

I am coveting my neighbour’s tomatoes.

Why oh why didn’t I plant any myself this year? Too late now. The lady in the plant shop just shook her head when I asked yesterday.
I’m thinking at least one of those tomatoes – the ripest, reddest one – is sitting right on the fence line. If it was just the teensiest bit over, I could have claimed it as my right. As it is, it’s disputed property. Do they even know it’s there? Besides, they must have heaps of perfectly good tomatoes on their side, more than they’ll ever need. If they weren’t a couple of plonkers, I could have befriended them and then just casually brought up my dearth, and they would have just gifted it to me – if not a whole bunch.
Why is life so unfair?