II.

When I arrived on set I was first struck by the stench. It was a sweet, unguent odor that hung over the room like a cloud. I was reminded of a high-school locker, of berries left on the counter, dripping in the sun, of fly traps; honey, wine, soap, vinegar. The shoot was slow, hot, and without a doubt, uninspired. Amber light drew sweat from my pores as I dangled a grape from my hand, hanging it over my mouth. This grape seemed worried; I thought it must be saying to itself “this is it! I will never see my friends or my family again! There are so many thoughts left unsaid!” On my way out of the studio, I caught a glimpse of the photographers bedroom (she, like so many creatives, had her studio in her living room). On every surface there were baskets of blackberries, left rotting in the August sun.

III.

Every time I eat a peach now I picture Chalamet’s tiny little cock halfway through it. I can’t help myself.

IV.

For five years the manager who watched over me would eat one bag of grapes every day. They were always purple, always unwashed, and always coated with what must have been dust. Upon his death, I brought an unripe bunch to his gravestone, and left them sitting in the mud.

V.

As a child I always loved blueberries. I would eat them until they stained my shit, tinting the porcelain toilet the color of the sky.

VII.

The apples she would eat were always unfinished, with a perfect crescent missing.

VIII.

Here is the recipe for the only salad dressing I know how to make: Olive oil, vinegar, salt, pepper.

IX.

B’s job was to rot fruit. His managers believed that this reminder of death would urge customers to buy ripe fruit more quickly. Over the years, he developed an efficient and cost-wise methodology, which won him much praise from his superiors. The produce would sit, sweating under a halogen sun, dripping in gold and wavering in the heat. Black flies would sway haphazardly through the yellow air, landing briefly on orange-skins, banana peels, and plums for a moment before taking off again. After a while, B befriended these visitors, keeping several with him in a small glass jar at all times.