Warning: The following content depicts scenes of graphic violence that some readers (i.e. fruitarians) may find upsetting. Reader discretion is advised.

The current generation of carrots bore the worst of the surprise attack. After the shock uprooting of several sweet youngsters, pudgy hands brushed the soil off orange flesh. Crunches of annihilation stoked vivid thoughts of revolt amongst the remaining vegetables.

The petals had fallen from their flowers: they were not being nurtured in fine beds; they were being detained in open-air prisons…

Some still had their ties on, their flabby florid faces jiggling with each laboured step, blood-shot eyes squinting at the setting sun. All but two wore suits, bulging bellies bursting over spindly legs covered by expensive, tailored fabric that gathered warm, red pigment as they trudged.

The driver walked ahead, the bus abandoned, its windows winking goodbye in the evening light. He’d advised his passengers to “bring the essentials, but it’s quite a walk” and given them each a bottle of water…

Experiments have shown we can statistically improve our levels of happiness by performing two acts of kindness a day for three weeks. Back in early March 2020, when Covid-19 events were still a rumbling, vague unsettlement, I attempted my version of this experiment.

If I was deliberately kinder, could I become happier?

I began by buying my younger daughter a slushy one day after day-care. This good deed was the outcome of a promise made at 8 am when saying goodbye. I was trying to pare down the clinging hugs and teary kisses. But was this act of kindness actually a bribe, a veiled form of selfishness?

In the meantime, newsreaders spoke about ‘super-spreaders’ and faraway ‘lockdowns’. Sales of toilet paper escalated…