favorite line: “the incalculable amount of tenderness contained in the world; of the fate of this tenderness, which is either crushed or wasted, or transformed into madness; of neglected children humming to themselves in unswept corners; of beautiful weeds that cannot hide from the farmer” I mean… this is just gorgeous

Condé Nast leaves no stone unturned in this brutally provoking snapshot of a grocery store interaction. Read more at the link.