The endless Bowl of joyful Peaches

"There was a bowl of fruit on a table in a kitchen that wasn't quite mine, bright colors, almost too bright, and I picked up something that looked like a peach and bit in without hesitating. Juice ran down my hand and it was so much better than any peach should taste, sweet in a way that made me laugh a little to myself. I kept reaching for more, different pieces each time, some I couldn't name, textures shifting a bit as I bit into them, never bothered me though. This bubbling happiness just kept building, simple and uncomplicated, no reason needed for it. Someone was at the table too, didn't register who, and I wanted to share, pushed the bowl toward them grinning, excited for them to taste it. The bowl never seemed to empty no matter how much I ate from it. It kept going, juice all over my hands, laughing about the mess, no urgency to clean it up. I woke up still smiling a little, oddly craving actual peaches."