Splurge

“Is it even worth it?” Dorothy stared ahead at the supermarket shelf, thinking hard.

The shelves here shuffled the stuff you were likely to buy right in front of your face according to the height on your biometric tag. She’d been about to grab her usual choice when this high end goodie was shoved in front of her nose instead.

Max leaned on the shopping cart, drumming her fingers along the handle. Advertisements scrolled in holograms under her hands. “I mean it’s not a necessity but—“

“So we shouldn’t get it.” Dorothy looked down at the price tag again. It flashed happily, not understanding she couldn’t afford what it offered.

Max sighed. “You know what? I’ll get some extra hours at work. Put it in the cart.”

Dorothy perked up. “Really?”

“Sure. It’s my apartment too.”

Dorothy mentally promised to cover takeout the next three times her and Max ordered in. She hefted the container into the cart, careful not to squish the grapes.

‘Quality air! Ultra filtered’, the label promised. The company said this stuff came from actual living trees, but Dorothy knew that was probably just a marketing gimmick.

“It’s nice to have a little luxury,” she sighed, and adjusted the straps on her respirator.

Adrienne Rex is a writer, a Texan, and a weirdo. Find her here: https://adrienne-rex-writes.carrd.co/