Sarah sprawled on the floor of her studio, aware of her heavy breathing slowly regaining normal rhythms, still pulsing with desire. He had left, just as quickly as he came, with only a handful of grape tomatoes and a bundle of scallions to remember him by. ‘Tomorrow,’ she thought, as she inhaled their fragrant scent. ‘Tomorrow, I’ll make a frittata.’

The demands in Lois’ contract seemed unreasonable to the photographers before she arrived for the shoot — but in person, it all suddenly make sense. True to her word: her nails were groomed, her makeup impeccable, her personality agreeable. And with clever cropping and framing, no one would ever have known that she was lacking both ears and one eye.

Janine stared lustily at the unexpected sight before her eyes. Placing the strawberry in her mouth, she ran her tongue along its rough edge, enjoying the texture of the seeds before finally succumbing to the urge, biting into its soft flesh. She had, quite frankly, been on her feet all day while organizing this entire event, and while the catering staff had left plenty to be desired, she would have to get the number of their produce vendor.

Diane’s friends did find it odd — and frankly, a bit put-on — when she insisted on ordering her meals to coordinate with her nail color; they frequently found themselves avoiding the puzzled glances of waiters, or holding back from a bit of eye-rolling whenever the “Week of the Eggplant” was mentioned in casual conversation. But honestly, she was lovely and smart and they had all been friends since the ninth grade, so really, what was the harm.

“When Ben comes home to find me eating his favorite food in his bed, he’s going to be SO turned on that he’ll forget all of those reasons why he wanted to break up with me. God, I love radishes. God, I love Ben.”

“You know what they say about big bananas?” said Joelle, unpeeling the soft yellow skin as she gazed at Michael, standing quietly in the kitchen, unpacking the week’s groceries. “They say that they’re good sources of potassium. Do you think that’s why you were so constipated last night?”

Carla knew what she was doing, and she didn’t care anymore. Yes, she had read “Charlotte’s Web.” Yes, she had been profoundly moved by “Eating Animals.” Yes, she would probably hide this entire incident from her close network of vegan and vegetarian friends. But she was in Hawaii, she was on vacation, and goddamnit, the second she finished off this fresh pineapple she was headed straight for the pig roast.