Brrrring! Brrrrring! Brrringg! Brrrrring! Brrrring! Brrrr- Evelyn’s hand lazily pressed the snooze button on the alarm clock on the desk. She turned over in bed, stared up at the wall beside her bed, and took small breaths.
As her eyes scrolled across the room, her brain became a semi-conscious stream of things she was noticing: Closet, hangers, desk, lamp on desk, phone, computer, white wall behind desk, photos, that weird photo of me and Dad, another one of me and Mom and Dad, and– Caroline and me at that [INSERT SOME PLACE WHERE EVELYN AND CAROLINE WOULD TAKE A PICTURE, AS NEW, NOT-VERY-CLOSE FRIENDS]. Caroline! I have to get ready for dinner with her! thought Caroline, and the thought startled her out of her semi-slumber.
She threw the blanket off her body, instantly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, then shot up like a spring off her bed and onto the floor. She reached for her phone on her desk, checked the time. Eight thirty-two. Wow, I needed that sleep, she thought to herself, as she took a deep breath of relief.
[ INSERT / ADD HERE:
Maybe some hobby that Evelyn does, like meditation, running up and down the stairs for exercise, or jogging around the block
AND/OR
Maybe some chore that Evelyn has to do, like Evelyn brushes her teeth, washes her face, takes a morning shower
]
[
QUESTION for ChatGPT: what are some hobbies or chores that Evelyn might do as soon as she wakes up on the morning of a non-workday, like Saturday morning?
QUESTION for ChatGPT: In a society where food is scarce and lots of people are unemployed and lots of people are deeply unhappy with their living conditions, what types of topics might show up in entertainment half-minute-long reels on a social media app?
QUESTION for ChatGPT: can you elaborate about Nostalgia & Escapism, and then give me some examples of a Tiktok reel that uses nostalgia to captivate the viewer? For example, a Tiktok reel that is a montage of scenes of happy communities with healthy food, that is a reminder of the time in the past when communities were happier
]
She opened her phone, then Clipzy. She scrolled through reels like they were fleeting daydreams, vivid but forgotten as soon as they passed. Each one scratched a different emotional itch– some were funny in a dark humor sort of way, some were practical lifestyle tips, some were angry, and some were just plain silly and intentionally nonsensical.
Evelyn's thumb hovered over the screen, aimlessly flicking through an endless stream of thirty-second reels, her mind lulled into a comfortable daze. In her trance, she could barely notice anything but the titles:
* “Top 10 survival tips I learned living at the homeless shelter!”
* “POV: your grandparents living it up back in 2080”
* “Looking for a job be like”
* “Energy life hacks GRWM”
* “How to un-shittify your canned chicken”
* “world is insane”
She flicked her finger to skip most of them within a few seconds, but a few captured her attention. A mildly-entertaining “How to un-shittify your canned chicken” was followed by “Tasty Mexican corn-free tostadas“, a montage showing how to make tostadas with cheap ingredients. The captions were:
* ‘Look for sorghum or wheat tortillas, pickled cabbage at the food store’
* ‘Get some chayote if they have some’
* ‘Frying tortillas in oil’
* ‘Spread refried beans from can onto tostada’
* ‘Add thin slices of chayote onto it’
* ‘Top it off with pickled cabbage’
* ‘Enjoy!’ on the top of the screen and a proudly-displayed ‘Follow 4 cheap & easy recipes!’ on the bottom
Evelyn’s hunger instincts kicked in- Mmmmmm, tasty. Mesmerized by the vibrant purple of the fresh, pickled cabbage, the sizzling of the oil in the cast-iron pan, the crisp crunch of the tostada as the cook took a bite, and finally the final shot of the tostada topped generously with her favorite foods- It was enough to overwhelm her with delight.
By her third re-watch of the reel, her excitement had dissipated a bit. She took a sigh, tapped her phone to pause the reel, and shut her eyes. What do I need to do? she thought, mentally imagining her tasks for the rest of her day. Oh, that’s right, she realized, and then got up and picked up her basket of dirty laundry from her closet. After throwing a couple laundry detergent pods in there, she left her apartment and headed down the stairs.
Seventeen flights of stairs and one leg-jellifying workout later, she had arrived at the laundry room. She dumped all of her clothes into one washer, and then inserted a couple dollars from her pocket into the cash slot. She checked the inside of the washing machine- it looked almost filled to the brim, but upon closer inspection there was a bit of space for the clothes to roll around. That’ll do, she thought, then shrugged her shoulders and turned on the washing machine.
She set a timer on her phone for the washing machine, then walked to the stairs entrance. This time, she walked up the stairs slowly, as she was in no rush to do anything specific. Right after she entered her apartment, her stomach rumbled Grrrrrrrrbb- so, she headed for the kitchen, grabbed a few crackers and a stick of blackberry-flavored Paste, then plopped a few slices of the Paste onto the crackers, and ate them while still standing next to the sink.
The impromptu meal was okay, but what she was really craving were the delicious tostadas from that reel. Well, I could make that another day, she thought, trying to appease herself. Speaking of… she thought, then resolutely fast-walked over to her computer on her desk, as though she had just reminded herself of a major task she wanted to get done today.
On her computer, she searched for various “food stores” near her. “A”, “Rowlett Food Center”, “B”, and “C”.
“A” on X street Rowlett was on Sunset street,, “B” on Y street, and “C” on Z street. Rowlett seems pretty close to where I’m at. Okay, now… she opened up her notes app on her phone in her lap and checked a list of grocery items that she wanted to buy. Then, she brought her attention back to her computer and did a Google search for “Rowlett vegetables section”. There were nothing but images of mostly-empty shelves- some having [trait of lettuce that has been grown in poor-quality soil] lettuce heads, others having small thumb-sized strawberries, and still others literally just having loaves of bread and nothing else. Oh- she thought, surprised and disappointed.
Next, she typed in “Rowlett hummus”, but this instantly auto-corrected to “Regal hummus”, showing images of pretentious-looking containers of Regal-Root-Brand hummus. Oh lord- she thought.
[ TO-DO FOR ME: I still need to add more about her finding out that the “average-person” food stores near her only sell 1 or 2 veggies and 1 or 2 fruits. So she “learns the lesson” that she needs to Google search for food stores with a variety of fresh produce” rather than just Google search for “food stores”
]
[ Evelyn finds out, on the Internet, that these stores do not sell either a variety of fresh produce. At best, they only serve 3 or 4 staple crops, like wheat, radishes, nopales *, pickled cabbage (But NOT corn, since corn can not be grown on poor-quality soil)
*Actually, I might want to say that most average-person stores in this neighborhood do NOT sell a lot of crops that traditionally grown only in Mexico (or can really only grow in Mexico’s climate). For a couple of reasons:
* Reason #1 = In my world, energy is expensive so there would be less profit in transporting nopales (edible cactuses) that were grown in Mexico over to the US food stores
What this means: It means that nopales (cactus) are grown and eaten in Mexico by average poor people in Mexico (and nopales are eaten way more now in my book’s world than in the IRL society of Mexico in 2024), BUT in American “food stores” in USA, a smaller quantity of nopales are sold compared to in Mexican “food stores” in Mexico.
]
Having learned her lesson, she searched on the online map specifically for “food stores with a variety of fresh produce”. This time, the map zoomed out so much that she could see the entire southern half of Hampton and all of its suburbs to the south of it.
“Langridge Foodhall”, “Stratford & Mason”, “Harvest & Haven”, “The Regal Root”, “Prestige Farms”- Huh, so is that where the produce from the greenhouse is going to? she pondered.
She scrolled across the map, learning that a few were on the west side of Hampton, a few others were in a suburb adjacent to Cedar Valley. Why do they have to be so far from me? she complained to herself.
Beeeeep! Beep! her phone alarm went off. She shut her computer and went downstairs, moved her laundry to the dryer, set yet another timer, and then walked all the way back up to her room.
At this point, she couldn’t think of anything else she had to do, besides the usual morning routine stuff. So, she brushed her teeth, took a shower, and washed a few stray dishes lying on the kitchen counter. Then, she remembered to pack her lunch for the day in her lunchbox: two slices of bread with lettuce inside, a short can of canned chicken, and an additional slice of bread.
She opened her computer back up, this time with a different strategy: if they didn’t have fresh produce, maybe they would have pickled produce. Sure enough, a Google search of “Rowletts Pickled Vegetables” showed actual cans of pickled cabbage and radishes, with the subtitle “Rowletts co.” on the bottom of the images. Finally, she searched for “Harvest & Haven hummus”, which confirmed for her that Harvest & Haven was indeed selling hummus. As she checked the price tag for the hummus container, her eyes widened in shock as she saw that it was six times the cost of one jar of pickled cabbage. A bit expensive for me, but it’s just a one-time thing, just for today, she thought.
With her food store trip planned out for the day, she checked her phone timer- ten more minutes until the dryer is done. She opened up Clipzy again, this time watching comedy skits and checking her phone timer every couple of minutes to make sure she didn’t lose track of time. After her timer had run out, she walked downstairs with her laundry hamper, took out her clothes- they were still a bit moist, but she was anxious to start her food store trip- and returned up the stairs to her apartment. She hung up a few pants on hangers to let them dry, but mentally shrugged at the other clothes which she knew were still a bit moist.
Finally, she took her lunchbox from the kitchen and put it in her backpack. Then, she took her backpack, phone, wallet, and apartment key and headed down the stairs to the first floor.
She walked to the nearest bus stop– about a ten-minute walk– and waited. When the bus arrived, she hopped on, swiped her bus card on the scanner, and took a seat in the back of the bus. Watching Clipzy on her phone, the bus ride blurred by, and soon enough she heard the bus driver call out the stop for Almeda Road. She said a quick “thank you!” to the driver, then stepped off the bus. In front of her was a large parking lot, very empty.
[ TO-DO: I need to copy & paste my description of the food mart mall into here. ]
[ While Evelyn is walking in this hallway, There were several people walking back and forth in this hallway (The hallway between the main entrance doors and the main grocery store part of the abandoned mall) ]
At the end of the hallway, she entered a large space, almost like a warehouse. Her eyes scanned the space: a couple check-out stations in front of her, a stupendously-long line of customers waiting to check out their food, and beyond that stood rows and rows of shelves of food.
A big sigh escaped her as she took the time to process the vast mess of it all. Much bigger than the old mart back in my neighborhood, she thought. After taking a few seconds to process the situation, she grabbed a grocery cart and walked behind the line of people so she could see a better view of the aisles.
“NutriBloc: Fruity”, the first aisle’s sign said. So, she pushed her cart forward and then turned right to see the second aisle’s sign. This one said “NutriBloc: Meaty”. It wasn’t until the last aisle that she found what she was potentially looking for, with an aisle sign of “Frozen Foods”.
Walking in the aisle, she saw a row of freezers on her left that stored foods of miscellaneous type: frozen soy-based “Chik’n” patties, plant-based “Chik’n” nuggets, frozen sauerkraut, frozen loaves of bread, frozen pizzas with soy cheese, bags of tempe, and a couple bags of frozen cabbage.
Seeing as she already had a lot of food at home for herself, she only picked up two frozen pizzas and put those in her cart.
The freezer part of the aisle ended somewhat near the end of the aisle, at which point a small, makeshift sign with handwritten “Preserved produce here” shoddily attached with duct tape to the wall. There were a couple jars of pickled cabbage and pickled radishes, and only one jar of pickled beets in the corner of the shelf.
She grabbed a jar of pickled cabbage and pickled radishes, put it in her cart. Then, she got in line for check-out. She looked ahead: there were twenty more people ahead of her, and then there were two cashier workers, one for each check-out stand. Squinting her eyes further, she could tell that the cashiers were sluggishly and slowly scanning the food items, like they had been working there for so long that they forgot what the freedom of the outdoors felt like. And she began to realize the ridiculousness of it all, there being two tiny check-out stands in the corner of a gigantic space- a food market that was more like a warehouse than a proper-sized grocery store, a food market that probably served tens of neighborhoods and thousands of people.
Feelings of anger appeared, the same usual anger she always got when thinking about the unjust nature of the world, the one-sided discrepancies that everyone just becomes okay with. Almost instinctively, so as to soothe the bad feeling, she whipped out her phone, opened Clipzy, and started watching reels to pass the time.
A long time later, she had made it to the check-out stand. At first, she took out her Government ID card and the cashier guy, a young man with permanent wrinkles on his brow, scanned it. Then he glanced back and forth between her and her ID card to make sure she was the person on her card. Then, the guy scanned out her items: the frozen pizzas, the jars of pickled cabbage and pickled radishes, and she paid with her credit card.
Finally, she exited through the long, wide, and tall dimly-lit hallway and out through the main entrance doors of the long-abandoned mall. At the bus stop, she waited with a couple other strangers for a couple minutes before the bus arrived. Then she took the bus back to her apartment building, and put away her groceries.
Satisfied from her mostly-successful trip to the food mart, she decided to check the time on her phone. Her face X– It’s already 2:10? How long was I at the food mart? she thought, a bit shocked.
She was already feeling exhausted, and she really wanted to hop in bed and watch Clipzy reels on her phone for God-knows-how-long, but she remembered her last time eating with Caroline at her house, how she enjoyed Caroline’s stories and confident attitude. I need to go to that bougie store, she reminded herself. Spotting her computer on her desk, she quickly decided to open up her computer and do a quick Google Maps search to verify that the train did indeed take her to Harvest & Haven. When she had taken a picture with her phone of the step-by-step directions for the route, she closed the computer and got ready to go out again.
After packing up all her belongings in her backpack, she confidently strode out of her apartment, walked down the stairs, and this time rode her bike to the train station, not the bus stop. She locked her bike on a bike rack near the train station, and sat down on the public benches on the train platform. Exhausted from all her travels earlier that day, she wasn’t even feeling like watching funny reels on her phone anymore, so she took a moment to observe the strangers near her.
One was a young woman dressed in [X Clothing] and holding the hands of her two toddlers– Probably a single mother, Evelyn thought.
Another was a middle-aged man with his head tilted to his left side, his left hand raised up to his left ear, so close that Evelyn couldn’t see if his left hand was holding a phone or not. Evelyn was within earshot, so she could hear him yelling about “No one cares!”, “Stop doing that!”, “Why aren’t you helping me?” and mumbling to himself in between his yells– Does he even have a phone? Evelyn wondered, a bit worried about him.
“Bennett West, Arriving in– 1 minute” a disembodied voice announced. A few passersby stood up from their seats and put away their phones. Screeeeeech! the train made a loud sound as it slowed down and its wheels scraped against the metal rails.
Evelyn entered the train and took notice of her surroundings. Every seat, except for the back row of seats, was filled with people- probably because the train itself only had three carts, as Evelyn had noticed before right before she had gotten on the train. She walked to the back row of the cart and took a seat there.
The train’s engine started roaring, the wheels screeched against the rail lines, and within a couple minutes the train was up to full speed. Still in her contemplative mood, she started just observing the crowd of people seated around her. [SOME OBSERVATIONS ABOUT THE PASSENGERS IN THE TRAIN CART.]
[ Evelyn waits a long time on the train ride, maybe 40 minutes]
When the train arrived at the “Sabine Street” stop, Evelyn got up and stepped off the train and onto the train station platform. Luckily, her destination was a walkable distance away, so she pulled up the photo of the directions for the Google Maps route on her phone, and scrolled down til she found what she was looking for.
* Walk straight south on Washington Avenue, 0.2 miles
* Turn right onto Briarwood Road and walk east, 0.1 mile
* Finally, Harvest & Haven will be on your right.
She first noticed the pristine luxuriousness of the neighborhood when she left the train station for the sidewalk of Washington Avenue. The sidewalks were polished to a smooth, glossy finish, free of cracks or imperfections, as if they had never been touched by the wear and tear of time. Along the sidewalks, maple trees were planted at equal distances; their large branches swayed subtly with the slight breeze.
Whooooooooosh! A luxury car whizzed by her, so close to her that she could feel the violent burst of wind it generated. Her body instinctively jerked to the right, but the car had already vanished into the horizon, nowhere to be seen. Shocked by the situation, she let out a big, deep breath; it took her a good ten seconds for her to feel safe and comfortable enough to relax her body and continue walking.
Evelyn turned right onto Briarwood Road. Still on the sidewalk, she noticed boutiques advertising premium flowers- including one very special bouquet meant exclusively for weddings. She also saw a couple of cafes, with sleek, modern-style designs– one in particular was a minimalist cut-out, with its windows stretching from floor to ceiling, and a minimalist sign that simply read “The Mill.” in thin, sans-serif font, with the period implying that there was nothing more to the shop than what you could see with your eyes. When she peered through the windows, she lifted her brows in shock and gasped a bit as she saw that there was not a single unoccupied table in the cafe- Must be a popular spot, Evelyn thought.
Eventually, she saw the beginning of a large football-field-wide retail-like area: a long block of retail stores and an accompanying gray parking lot. The parking lot was filled with cars- most were classic minivans similar to SUVs, while others were luxury, sleek cars. The only times I’ve seen filled parking lots before was for apartment buildings– never for retail centers, she noticed.
Well, she resumed walking along the sidewalk, this time looking to her right to scan the names of the retail stores. Best Buy, Ulta– what’s that for?--, Home Depot, TJ Maxx, … aha! Harvest & Haven! she spotted.
She scanned ahead of her to check for a sidewalk to take her to the store, but since the store was in the middle of the giant parking lot, and since most residents here drove to stores instead of walking, her search turned out empty. Well, not exactly empty– she did spot a break in the fence surrounding the parking lot that served as the car-entrance and car-exit between the parking lot and the adjacent road. When she reached it, she quickly looked over both her left and right shoulder for any cars, and then hurry-walked on the gray asphalt through the street-entrance to the parking lot.
Once in the parking lot, she identified a particularly wide gap between the rows of parked cars and then walked through it to the retail-store-end of the parking lot. Several different people were walking along the stores-sidewalk, all dressed in outfits that were quite mundane but at the same time, very luxurious. For example, one white 30s-something man was wearing a navy-blue button-down blazer, the very top button undone as if to signal confidence and swagger. He wore a very-simple pair of brown leather sneakers, but as he got closer to Evelyn, she noticed that they were reflecting a remarkable shine as if they had been made as recently as this morning. Walking alongside him was a white woman, around the same age as him, wearing black sunglasses and a baby-blue midi dress; the dress was a very simple dress, having no decorative patterns- the only distinguishing feature of it being that it was slightly cinched in at the waist.
[
how to explain that the wealthy residents of this wealthy neighborhood were dressed so elegantly enough so as to convey that they were wealthy, but not too elegantly to suggest that they were ]
Besides the fashion, the other thing Evelyn noticed about these people was their walking pace. They were all walking at a slow cat’s pace, as if they were in no hurry to be anywhere in particular. Well, that certainly doesn’t apply to me, she thought when remembering her 6 o’clock dinner invitation with Caroline, and quickly ramped up her pace on the sidewalk.
After walking past a few stores, she knew she had made it to Harvest & Haven when she saw a bunch of potted hydrangeas and tulips arranged on the sidewalk area in front of the store entrance. That, and of course, the sign above the two front doors reading Harvest & Haven, in a clear, minimalist font. She entered the store through the automatic glass doors– and gladly enjoyed the free A/C blowing onto her face.
Straight ahead of her, there were a couple different wooden bins of bright fruits– some bananas, strawberries, and mangoes- were those mangoes or peaches? she wondered. Then, behind the first few wooden bins, she noticed a section on the wall of even more produce, and a giant chalkboard sign above that that said FRESH PRODUCE. Well, if I’m already here, might as well get a few treats for down the line– she thought, lured by the fantabulous display of nature’s rainbow of produce.
On her right, she saw a line of large, pushable grocery carts and a stack of wooden baskets. In an effort to limit herself– she knew damn well this food was gonna be expensive– she opted for the wooden basket instead of the grocery cart.
After she perused the different bins of fruits, one particular bin caught her eye: plastic containers of fresh, vibrant-red juicy strawberries- as a child, her favorite fruit had been strawberries, so of course she was instinctively drawn to them. Plus, these strawberries were so much better-looking than any of the strawberries she had ever eaten– she had only eaten small, deformed strawberries in odd shapes and with yellowish tinges on the top, which always had a bitter, tangy aftertaste in her mouth.
Didn’t I see a block of strawberry plants at the hydroponics farm? she asked herself, trying to recall the memory. Yes, I did. Then, she carefully lifted one of the boxes above her head, and inspected the bottom of the container. In the top right corner, a small tag read: “Sourced From: FreshRoots Hydroponics, LLC.”
Her face instantly turned into a conflicted mixture of pride and disappointment. Pride in herself for personally helping to grow crops like these so that people could eat them; disappointment because she highly doubted these crops would go to one of the stores in her own community. The traces of a new idea whispered to her conscience: Maybe with the right activism, fresh crops like these can start to be sold at common stores, and at a discounted price, so that common people can both access them and afford them?- she saved this thought for later discussion, as it was already getting late in the afternoon, and she desperately didn’t want to be late to Caroline’s dinner.
She went ahead and put the box of twenty or so plump strawberries into her basket. Then she spotted a shelf of cantaloupes and watermelons and quickly put a cantaloupe into her basket. A sign above the cantaloupes shelf commanded her attention for a few brief seconds– it informed her that cantaloupes were “$50 per pound.” Even with this, she didn’t stop shopping because she was quickly mesmerized by a small fridge section of grapes behind the cantaloupes shelf.
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She grabbed a hefty plastic bag of grapes, and took mental note of the price– $110 per bag. At this point, she was starting to suspect that she couldn’t afford to buy any more of the produce here, so she pulled out the calculator app on her phone and started doing calculations.
$110 for the grapes, plus $50 per pound Times probably 4 pounds of cantaloupe, plus the strawberries- Hmmm, what was the price of the strawberries? she asked herself– in her excitement about her favorite fruit, she had forgotten to check the price of them. When she returned back to the strawberries shelf, she was dismayed to learn that the price of strawberries was a hefty ”$100 per container”.
She entered in the final number on her calculator app- a “Plus $100”. The result: a staggering $410. Finally, the reality of the sheer price of this place was starting to sink in. That’s five hours of my work day. This will do, she thought, and quickly walked herself out of the produce section with her eyes glued to the floor, like a Greek sailor plugging his own ears as a desperate attempt to avoid hearing the luring calls of the sirens.
When she was confident she was far away enough from the produce section, she lifted her eyes up from the floor to realize that she was in between a refrigerated aisle on her left and a couple rows of tall shelf aisles on her right. She walked up-close to the refrigerated aisle, noticing signs like “Organic Cheese” and “Salad Kits”. Eventually, she saw a sign in the fridge aisle advertising “Dips & Spreads”. Peering in the fridge itself, she saw small plastic boxes of guacamole, brown lentil dip, tzatziki dip, and of course, short circular containers of hummus.
She grabbed one and placed it in her basket, then checked the time on her phone. Three forty-eight: Phew! I still can make it on time, she thought. She hurried over back to the entrance of the store, where she assumed the check-out stands would be.
As she approached the front section of the store, she had no difficult time spotting the check-out stands- not because the line was long, but because there were a ton of them- about ten, from her estimates. A few stands had a few customers in line, but one in particular had no customers in line at all– so she walked over to it.
She put her groceries one by one from her wooden basket onto the conveyor belt, then put her empty wooden basket on the conveyor belt– she didn’t want people thinking she was stealing anything.
The cashier was an older fellow, maybe in his 40’s. He was wearing a black T-shirt with a blue apron with the words “Harvest & Haven” plastered on its center. The permanent crease between his brows and his dark eye bags betrayed a tiredness, one quite similar to the tiredness she had seen in the eyes of the cashier at the crowded food mart next to her apartment building. He’s not rich like them, she thought. Does he commute all the way up here from another neighborhood? Or maybe he is rich but just looks tired? Does he need another job given the prices of everything in this neighborhood? Does- “It’s $403,” he loudly announced with a sharpness that startled her.
“Right, right…” she said, pulling out her credit card. She swiped it on the card machine, then hit “No” to the “Become a Harvest member” prompt, and “Yes” to the “Confirm Purchase” prompt. The card machine’s screen made a Dinnggg!! sound, and said “Come again next time”.
She walked to the other end of the check-out stand, grabbed her couple bags of groceries, and put them in the wooden basket. “Thank you!” she said, and started walking towards the exit. After just a few steps, though, the cashier loudly called out “Ma’am, you need to put the basket over here,” he said.
“Oh, okay!” she said and turned around, then placed the wooden basket next to the cashier guy’s feet, and took out her bags of groceries. So they don’t trust me to not steal the basket, huh, she scoffed internally to herself.
“Thanks,” he said, this time more quietly.
“Have a good one,” she said, making eye contact with the man. The 40s-something man with the tired face returned her a smile- a small one, but still a smile at that.
She turned around and headed for the exit. Once outside, she loaded up Google Maps to tell her the directions to get back home. Fortunately for her, it was the same path as the one she used to get here, except in reverse.
[ … ]
The time was 5:05. She had just gotten to her apartment, unloaded her groceries into the kitchen, and started prepping the sandwiches. She had already toasted ten slices of bread to perfection, then placed them in a stack on a plate. Now she was cutting bell peppers into thin strips, with plans to cut the pickled cabbage into wedges and the pickled radishes into thin slices. Only one more hour, she thought to herself and sighed, extremely worn-out from the day and desperately craving some social interaction.
Once she had cut the veggies, she grabbed the hummus container from the fridge and placed it on the counter. She grabbed two slices of bread from the stack of toasted bread slices, placed the cut-up veggies on one of the two slices of bread, then used a knife to spread hummus onto the other slice. She put the two slices together to make a sandwich, then used a big knife to cut it diagonally, and then put that sandwich in a plastic Ziploc bag and put that plastic bag in her temperature-insulated lunchbox. After repeating four more times for a total of five sandwiches, she put the open lunchbox in the fridge to keep it cool.
Staring at the closed fridge, she had a stubborn realization: All that work just for five sandwiches, she thought. I mean, they’re good, but still… I didn’t expect it to be this much work.
She walked over to the couch, which was awkwardly situation along the short wall between her bed and her desk. On her phone, she texted Marco- “Hey- I just finished getting ready. Your ETA is still 6, right?”; then she opened up Clipzy and watched some reels.
A good while later, she saw a text from Marco on her phone “I’m here. You ready?”. She texted back “Yea, I’ll be out there soon just one sec.” She grabbed her lunchbox from the fridge, closed it shut, put on her shoes, and headed out the door.
Marco’s old gray-blue Toyota Corolla was pulled out in front of the entrance to the apartment building. Evelyn knocked on the passenger seat door to get Marco’s attention, who was looking down on his phone. He quickly looked up, saw that it was Evelyn, and unlocked the door.
“What’s up?” Evelyn said as she got into the passenger seat.
“Chicken butt,” Marco said in the driest, most nonchalant tone ever.
Evelyn burst out laughing so hard she couldn’t stop for a good couple of seconds.
“I’m sorry, just had a long day, so that was pretty funny for me,” she apologized.
“That’s fine, I was trying to be funny anyways,” Marco said.
“You brought something?” Marco said, his eyes on the lunchbox Evelyn had in her right hand.
“Oh yea, I just made a few sandwiches for everyone. Sort of as a gift, I guess.”
“Ah, I see. Well thank you, Evelyn.” Marco said, then turned his eyes away from Evelyn to back in front of him.
“You good to go?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” Evelyn affirmed.
“Okay then,” Marco said, and started driving the car.
The drive over there was quiet. Evelyn figured she could talk with Marco and Caroline at Caroline’s house, and plus she didn’t want to interrupt Marco’s focus while he was driving, so she kept quiet.
[ Describe the drive over there.
Describe the surroundings change from half-residential-apartment-building half-small-businesses To X To Y, and finally To a large, purely residential district of single-story houses.
]
Marco pulled the car into the narrow driveway attached to the street. “Alright,” Marco said, fiddled his keys clockwise in the driving wheel to lock the car, and then exited the car. Evelyn reached out to the backseat and grabbed her lunchbox. When she got out of the car, Marco was already at the front door, fiddling his key in the door knob.
When he opened the door, he walked inside and held the door open for her. Marco took off his gray slip-on loafers and Evelyn her white tennis shoes. In the hallway, Evelyn heard some yells and rumbling sounds, almost like Marco’s kids were chasing each other. Pretty quickly, Daniel burst into the hallway through a door of one of the rooms. He turned left, seeing his father, and enthusiastically yelled “Dad’s home!” before running over to hug his father.
“Hi, kiddo,” Marco said. “Were you playing tag with Sofía?” he asked.
“Yes, but she’s too fast,” Daniel said, his head looking up at his father.
“Haha, well, that’s the fun of it,” Marco said in a cheerful tone.
“Can I eat dinner now?” Daniel asked.
“Yes, we are just about to set up the dinner table. We’ve got your favorite quesadillas!”
“Awesome!” Daniel said as his eyes brightened and his lips curled up into a smile. Then he ran away, presumably off to find Sofía.
[ TO-DO FOR ME: Possibly I can add description of Marco talking to Evelyn about something, or about Daniel.
]
“He’s great,” Evelyn said to Marco.
“Yea, he is,” Marco said. “Let’s go to the kitchen,” he suggested, and they walked through the hallway to the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Evelyn noticed two different serving plates on the counter. One was a plate of quesadillas, while the other was a plate of five rather-empty-looking beans-and-zucchini tacos.
“Can you help me set up the table?” Marco asked Evelyn.
“Yea, sure. Wait can I put my lunchbox in your guys’ fridge?” she asked.
Marco nodded, “Yea, sure,” and Evelyn put her lunchbox on the bottom-most shelf of their fridge, in between two large boxes of tofu.
“Okay, done,” Evelyn let Marco know.
“Okay, let’s start with the table cloth,” Marco said, and pulled out a white folded-up tablecloth from a kitchen cabinet above the stove. He unfolded it slightly and asked Evelyn to grab the other side of it.
When they had stretched it across the dinner table, Evelyn could take the time to appreciate the tablecloth– it was decorated generously with multi-colored flowers and birds– hummingbirds– with different-colored feathers. [ADD MORE DESCRIPTION OF THE TABLECLOTH AND WHAT EVELYN THINKS OF IT]
“Let’s get silverware,” Marco said. He walked over to the cabinet next to the fridge, pulled out some forks and knives, and Evelyn did the same. The table had six chairs total, two chairs on each of the longer sides, and one chair on each of the shorter sides. So, Marco and Evelyn placed forks and knives in front of all six chairs. After Evelyn had placed silverware on the sixth and final chair, Marco informed her, “There’s only gonna be five people so you can take the sixth silverware back.” What about Caroline’s ma? Evelyn thought, but decided not to bring up the sensitive subject, especially given the frail state she had seen Caroline’s mother in during her first visit to Caroline’s house.
After Evelyn had returned the sixth pair of silverware to the silverware drawer, Marco said: “Okay, good. Now, plates,” he said, and this time he opened an upper cabinet, and grabbed a few plates. Evelyn got a few plates and placed them on the table in front of the remaining chairs.
Marco opened up yet another cabinet and asked Evelyn, “Glasses are here, do you mind taking out five of them and filling them up with water? I’m gonna go tell Caroline to come over and then I’ll get the kids.”
Evelyn started grabbing the glasses as he left the kitchen. She filled each glass with water from the tap. A couple seconds later, Caroline came walking in the kitchen.
“Caroline! How are you?” Evelyn exclaimed, with a level of enthusiasm that surprised even her, given her long, exhausting day.
“Uh, okay, I guess,” Caroline said.
“I got you a gift,” Evelyn said.
“Oh really,” Caroline said.
“Yea, can I show you?” Evelyn said.
“Uhh sure,” Caroline said, reluctantly.
Evelyn opened the fridge, got out her lunchbox, placed it on the counter, opened it, and grabbed one of the plastic bags of sandwiches. She held it out in the palm of her hand to show Caroline “It’s a crispy, toasted sandwich with hummus and sliced veggies. Have you tried hummus before? It’s so good. But I had to go to the luxury food mart to get it,”
Caroline alternated her gaze between the sandwich and Evelyn multiple times. Her eyes widened in disbelief, her brows arched slightly upwards, and her forehead crease became more prominent. Her mouth curled into a hesitant half-smile, as she said, “Thanks?” in an uncertain, rising tone.
Just as Evelyn was opening her mouth to explain, Marco and the kids came walking in the kitchen.
“Hey, Mom!” Daniel said, immediately running up to her and giving her a hug. “Are the quesadillas good? I’m starving,” he said.
“Yes they are! They’re very crispy, just the way you like it,” Caroline said, looking down to meet her son’s eyes.
As Caroline was busy talking with her children, Evelyn quickly put her sandwich-containing plastic bag back in the lunchbox, and then put the lunchbox back in the fridge.
“Evelyn! Do you mind carrying the plates of quesadillas and tacos over to the dinner table?” Marco asked.
“No problem,” she said, and then carefully lifted the plates, one by one, up from the kitchen countertop and over to the center of the dinner table. By this point, Caroline, Marco, and the kids had taken a seat at the dinner table, so Evelyn decided to take a seat at the end of the table. To her left, Caroline and Marco were seated and to her right, Daniel and Sofía were seated.
The first thing Marco did was take his children’s plates and put food on them- six quesadilla slices for each child. Caroline and Evelyn each grabbed three tacos for themself, and then after Marco had finished fixing up his kids’ plates, he took four tacos for himself.
[ Evelyn, Caroline, Marco, and the 2 kids sit down at the table ]
[ TO-DO: Possibly, some more conversation at the dinner table. ]
[ TO-DO: Possibly, I can swap the skills of the 2 children with each other, so that Daniel is really good with artistic painting and Sofía is really good with math.
]
“So, how was your day Marco?” Caroline asked.
“Oh, very exciting. Daniel here, won his soccer competition this afternoon,” Marco said.
“We beat Westwood soooooooo bad,” Daniel exclaimed with an infectious grin that lit up his entire face.
“Wow Marco! I’m so proud of you, what with the math quiz and then the soccer game.” Caroline said.
“The math quiz?” Evelyn asked.
“Do you want to tell our guest here, Ms. Troyer, about your math quiz?” Caroline asked her son.
“I got a 100 on it! And Mr. Webb said I’m the best student in his Algebra class this semester.” Daniel said.
“Wow, look at you go, Daniel. You know, when I was in middle school, I was horrible at math. And math is an important skill in this world. So keep it up!” Evelyn said as words of encouragement to the middle-schooler.
“Thanks! I will,” Daniel replied.
“Sofía, do you have any hobbies?” Evelyn asked.
“I do painting a lot,” Sofía responded.
“Oh, really? What do you like to paint?” Evelyn asked.
“I paint fantasy creatures, dreams, abstract things,” she said.
“Wow! That’s very sophisticated, Sofía. I’m impressed,” Evelyn said.
“Yes, very impressive– she actually just finished a major painting project last week. Can I show it to her, Sofía?”
Sofía nodded slightly up and down to her mom.
Caroline pulled out her phone, scrolled through something, and extended her hand out to offer it to Evelyn.
The painting was an impressionistic desert: dunes made of light-tan sand, spiky, impossibly tall cacti, two odd copper antelopes made of gearworks, and one giant flaming phoenix, all set against a midnight-blue sky.
Evelyn’s eyes lit up, her mouth went agape. This is better than most professional adult painters do! Evelyn thought. But instead of freaking out, she kept it simple and told Caroline “Your child is a wonderful painter”.
“Yes, she is. Actually, she has an upcoming art competition in two weeks,” Caroline informed.
“And she’s gonna teach me to paint next weekend,” Marco said.
“Ooooooo, interesting.” Evelyn said.
[ SOME MORE CONVERSATION
]
“Sofía, you’ve barely touched your quesadillas. What’s wrong?” Marco asked with a concerned expression on his face.
“I’ve eaten two pieces,” she said defensively.
“You usually eat a lot more food. You’re not hungry?” Marco asked.
“Well, this cheese- it doesn’t taste like real cheese. It’s kinda gross,” Sofía said.
“Ah, okay, darling. Do you want some of my food? I’ve got tacos.” Marco said.
“Sure,” Sofía said, and Marco reached over the table to grab Sofía’s plate, then put two of his small bean-and-zucchini tacos on her plate.
“They have a bit of zucchini on them, but I promise you won’t taste it too much,” Marco said with a reassuring smile, nudging the plate back toward her.
[ SOME MORE CONVERSATION
]
[ TO-DO FOR ME: Somewhere, maybe between two lines of dialogue, I need to explain that Sofía finished her 2 tacos. She still has several pieces of quesadilla on her plate.
]
[ AFTER THE DINNER WITH EVELYN, CAROLINE, MARCO, AND THE 2 KIDS, AND POSSIBLY CAROLINE’S MOM]
“Can I go now? It’s seven-thirty,” Daniel said.
Marco looked at Daniel, then Sofía, then back at Daniel. “Fine, you can go.”
“Thanks, Dad. Can I watch TV?” Daniel asked.
“Uh, no, abuelita is watching TV, and she likes watching alone. Plus, you should read your book, remember? For your English class.” Marco said.
“Uggghh, okay, I guess.” Daniel said, and ran out of the kitchen.
“Can I go too?” Sofía said.
“Yes, sweetheart.” Marco said.
With that, Sofía walked out of the kitchen.
Marco looked at Caroline and Evelyn’s empty plates, and then he looked back at Caroline. “We should clean up, yes?” he asked them.
Caroline nodded at Marco, while Evelyn said, “Yea,” and got up. Soon, Caroline and Marco also stood up and pushed in their chairs. They all grabbed their plates– Marco grabbed his plate and Daniel’s and Sofía’s plates– and deposited them in the sink.
“I can wash the dishes and silverware,” Evelyn offered.
“Sure, thank you Evelyn. I’ve had a long day,” Marco said. “I think I’ll take a break and go get some rest now,” he said, then left the kitchen.
“How was your day, Evelyn? I completely forgot to ask.” Caroline inquired.
“Oh, it wasn’t anything special. I just did my laundry, went to the store and got groceries.” Evelyn said. “But it was very exhausting, you know? It was just one of those days.”
“Yea, that makes sense. I just watched ‘Cake-Off’. It’s this cooking competition TV show. Probably watched it for a bit too long,” Caroline said, with a tinge of humor in her voice.
“Wow, that must’ve been chill. We should watch that sometime.” Evelyn said, scrubbing the food residue off of a plate with a sponge.
[ Some more conversation. Probably only 5 to 10 lines of dialogue between Caroline and Evelyn
TO-DO FOR ME: MAKE SURE TO DESCRIBE THAT Evelyn finished hand-washing the plates and silverware, and has now put them away in the cabinets that the clean plates and silverware are stored in
]
“So, can I explain my gift again?” Evelyn asked.
“Uh, okay, sure,” Caroline said.
Evelyn opened the fridge, took out her lunchbox, placed it on the counter, and then took out a plastic bag with a sandwich in it. She sighed a bit- “Okay, so– Sorry I didn’t explain it well earlier. I thought, given that we’re both growing produce, we should try some of the fruits of our labor. Personally, I’m sick of eating this Paste shit with crackers every day. So I thought you would appreciate a nice sandwich with fresh veggies and hummus,” she explained.
Caroline’s brows returned back to their natural, neutral position, as the crease between her brows softened and she turned her gaze from the sandwich back to Evelyn. “Oh, I see.” she said in her usual neutral tone of voice.
Evelyn put the plastic bag in her lunchbox, which was still on the counter. She closed the lunchbox, and was about to put the lunchbox back in the fridge, but as she was opening the fridge door, Caroline spoke up, her eyes pinned on Evelyn. “You know we can’t be healthy in the long-term, right?” she said, and Evelyn froze what she was doing and turned around to face Caroline.
Caroline’s face turned sour, her brows arched, this time into an angry expression, rather than a puzzled one. The edges of her mouth sank into a light frown. “Because we try our hardest to feed our kids and keep them healthy. But we sure as hell can’t afford to buy fresh vegetables every week. So what exactly were you trying to accomplish here?” Caroline sighed, heaving from her intense speech, and moved her gaze from Evelyn to a cabinet in the corner of the kitchen.
Upon hearing Caroline’s reaction, Evelyn’s eyes widened and her heart started pounding faster. She kept her eyes down on the floor, too anxious to look her suddenly-pissed friend in the face.
“Ummmmm, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t really think about that. I just, you know, I know how important fresh food is for kids, s-so I thought you might, um, like something healthy, even if it’s just for now,” Evelyn managed to say.
“It’s okay, sorry,” Caroline said. “It’s just… trying to find the right food for my kids is already hard enough, and so the thought of me having to go to a luxury store just for vegetables, it was frustrating. Actually, no- it was infuriating,” Caroline explained, then transitioned her gaze from the cabinet back to Evelyn. “But I’m not mad at you, though. I’m just mad at the lack of healthy food options here.”
“Yea,“ Evelyn said, heart still racing.
“And can I say something else?” Caroline said, still in an angry mood but less angry than before.
“Okay,” Evelyn said.
“Okay, here goes.” Caroline said, then took a deep breath. “I don’t know much about you, but your optimism about healthy food magically becoming available for ‘the community’ here, it just seems like you don’t know anything about this neighborhood.” Caroline said. “So that bothered me a bit,” she finished.
Evelyn took a deep breath, her mind racing as she tried to find the right words. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I don’t… I didn’t mean to come off like that. I mean it’s not like I grew up with baskets of fresh produce just waiting on my doorstep, either, but I guess maybe there are challenges here that I was- and still am- oblivious to.”
Caroline looked down at her hands for a moment, her fingers tapping lightly against the counter. “Yeah. It’s not easy, Evelyn. Half of us are just trying to survive, so we don’t exactly have time to think of long-term solutions,” Caroline explained. “The other half, well, has tried many different ideas for making fresh produce accessible, but with each idea, there are obstacles getting in the way. All I know is, this corporate greenhouse is not one of those solutions. All it’s doing is helping the rich suburb next door, not our poor one.”
“I never even considered that,” Evelyn said.
“Yea,” Caroline said sharply, still hurt. She then walked over to the dining table, took a seat, and opened up her phone, scrolling her thumb on something on the screen. Evelyn copied Caroline– she also took a seat at the end of the table opposite from Caroline, and then pulled out her phone.
After a couple minutes of silence on their respective phones, Caroline broke it with a simple “Do you want a cookie?”
Evelyn smiled, a bit surprised that Caroline would offer her that given Caroline’s current irritated mood. “Yea, sure, I guess,” Evelyn answered.
“Okay,” Caroline said, then got up from the chair and went over to the fridge. On her tiptoes, she was barely able to grab a small, brown, opaque cookie jar from the top of the fridge. She put it on the counter, grabbed two cookies, and closed the cookie jar lid.
She offered a cookie to Evelyn, to which Evelyn accepted. “Sugar cookie! That’s my favorite one,” Evelyn said with a fake enthusiasm, indicative of her white lie. Caroline ignored the comment, and simply took a seat, but this time a bit closer to Evelyn.
“How are you feeling about next week?” Evelyn asked, chewing her cookie.
“Uh, okay, I guess. I don’t have many plans. Just work, 7 AM to 5 PM, Monday to Friday.” Caroline answered, her eyes peering down at the table rather than at Evelyn.
“Well, you and me both.” Evelyn said.
“Could we plan to watch a TV show together for sometime later this week?” Evelyn suggested.
“Sure, I guess. Maybe you could go home with me in Marco’s car after work ends, that way Marco won’t have to make a separate trip.” Caroline said.
[ Some more conversation between Caroline and Evelyn
]
Evelyn yawned. Evelyn checked her phone for the time: Eight forty-four. “Okay, I’m getting tired. Mind if I leave now for home?” Evelyn said.
“You can ask Marco to drive you home,” Caroline reminded her.
“Okay,” Evelyn said, getting up from her chair. “I’ll see you on Monday, then.”
“Okay.” Caroline said.
When she had walked over to the door that was the exit to the hallway, Evelyn said “Goodnight!”, but Caroline, still at the table, didn’t answer, and nor did she turn her head to look at Evelyn.
Evelyn walked along the hallway over to the door to Caroline and Marco’s bedroom. She knocked on the door a couple times, asking in a soft-yell “Marco! Can you drive me home please?”
Marco opened the door, in his black-and-gray-checkered plaid pajamas and a crumpled old white t-shirt.
“Oh! Did I wake you?” Evelyn asked.
“No, no, you’re good. I was just relaxing on my phone,” Marco said.
“Do you mind driving me back home?” Evelyn asked.
“No, no, not at all. Let’s go,” he said, then walked over to the foyer and put on his gray sneakers. He grabbed the car keys from a hook hanging on the wall in the foyer area.
Then, he led Evelyn out the front door and the two hopped in his old gray-blue Corolla.
The car ride over to Evelyn’s apartment was perfectly quiet, save for the Tik! of the left-turn signal and the screech of the car wheels braking for stop lights.
When the car pulled up to the round curb in front of her apartment building, Evelyn reached over to the backseat to grab her backpack and her empty lunchbox.
“Have everything?” Marco asked.
“Mhm-hmm,” Evelyn said.
“Alright, have a good night, Evelyn.” Marco said, with a final nod.
Evelyn stepped out of the car and onto the curb. At the apartment building entrance, she scanned her government ID, which made a Beeeep! sound as the front doors auto-unlocked. She walked through the lobby, empty as usual– save for the lone security guard in the corner of the space, whom she had never talked to– and then slowly walked up the seventeen flights of stairs to her apartment.
Click! sounded the bolt of her apartment door as she turned the key counterclockwise. Once inside, she quickly shut the door and leaned her back pressed firmly against the door. She was heaving, but not just because of the exhausting walk up those stairs. Caroline’s really irritated with me, ugghhh. Why do I always think I know how to fix people’s problems? Her knees gave way, allowing her body to sink down until she was crouching. She took a deep sigh.
I just wanted to do something nice, but… how did I not anticipate how it would come across? Ugggghh… she sighed again.
[ Maybe some more of Evelyn’s thoughts.
Maybe some of Evelyn’s thoughts, specifically her views on whether or not she still believes, even after what Caroline told her, that the corporate hydroponics farm has the potential to be a net-positive for her neighborhood of Cedar Valley.
]
With all these thoughts, she had forgotten to even breathe right. She took a few deep breaths, swallowed her spit, it left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth, one that wouldn’t go away.
[ Does this “With all these thoughts… it left a bitter aftertaste… one that wouldn’t go away.” sound artificial or out-of-place? Because I just added it only because I thought it would be cool to add a line with the words “bitter aftertaste” at the very of this chapter.
Also is it cheesy?
]
Brush teeth, she thought. She used her hands on the ground to steady herself as she slowly got up. Then, she walked in the bathroom on her left and brushed her teeth.
[ ]
As she wrapped the blanket covers over her chest, she turned to her left side to face the wall. Then, the same various thoughts from before crept in, trying to solve any and all possible conflicts– not just Caroline’s grievance at her, but the whole neighborhood’s often-unspoken grievance at the powerful for depriving them of healthy food and other services. They tormented her ruthlessly, keeping her eyes wide awake and her mind on edge. She tried to push the thoughts away, even compartmentalize them into the back of her mind for her to deal with later, but they were persistent, as stubborn and unshakable as the walls around her.