Farmer’s Market Indulgence

You hand over your last crumpled bills for artisanal goat cheese and a basket of heirloom mushrooms so strange they look like props from a fantasy novel. The vendor thanks you with a solemn nod, as though you’ve passed some unspoken test.

Back home, you open your fridge. It is barren of anything resembling sustenance. No milk, no eggs, no leftovers — only wedges of goat cheese with names you can’t pronounce and mushrooms that might be edible, might be hallucinogenic.

You know you cannot eat like this for a week, and yet… the photos are glorious.

You stage them on your countertop: rustic wood cutting board, sunlight through the window, a scattering of basil leaves you don’t actually own. You snap a dozen shots, adjust the filter, and post to Instagram. 

Within minutes: hearts, comments, DMs.

“So jealous!!”

“Where did you find those??”

“This is such a vibe.”

Validation washes over you like warm sunlight. You may starve, but you are radiant online.

The rent will not be paid. Your fridge will be useless. But in the infinite scroll of social media, you look like a person who has their life together — and isn’t that what matters?

Try Again?