Costco has these artisanal peaches. My betrothed and I first had them while staying with some friends. They’re the platonic ideal of what an amazing peach should be. They’re peeled and preserved in juice whole, and somehow they taste slightly like vanilla.
When we got home from our visit we picked up a jar for ourselves. They lasted a good long while. We finally went to get more- and they were gone. I was devastated. That was two years ago.
Every Costco trip since then has included a hopeful look for the amazing peaches. I never stopped dreaming they’d come back.
My health has gotten better and with my improved energy I’ve finally been able to take over some of the chores. So when my betrothed lamented not having time for a Costco trip last week I volunteered to go alone.
I was meandering down the aisle and then I saw them. The peaches. The promised fruit I had been denied for two years, perfect and golden in that Costco aisle. Orchestral music swelled in my mind and everything around me faded away as I beelined toward them.
I was stricken with peach madness. I got four jars. Sitting in the car afterward I tallied the expense. The peaches were fully a quarter of the Costco bill. I texted my betrothed to apologize for absolutely losing my head. They reassured me over and over that it was a luxury I deserved to indulge and that it was okay.
Tonight while holding a dripping perfect peach in my hands, eating it while standing over the counter, each bite the exact ripeness to have a little give but not too much, and my mouth full of vanilla and peaches I contemplated going to buy more.
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FEIST & PEACHES IN THE STUDIO | early 2000s
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She’s sad bc nobody is kissing her little forehead :/
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