Slowly it dawned upon him that the camera on his phone, in stark contrast to what he'd made to believe back then, might actually be shit. He hesitated. Well, seriously? So what, he asked himself. If we've really arrived at a point where this poses a problem in the way you view the world... mate, you might as well be out of your damn mind. Fuck your image on Instagram. Look around you. Better be fucking grateful, lad. He breathed. Guess I'm right, he replied to himself, with some resolve, then turned to the bottle he had just filled with the first fermented hotsauce he had ever made by himself, and felt some satisfaction warming him from somewhere inside. Not as red-hot as the sauce had felt on his tongue just a few minutes before, but probably longer-lasting. He went to check on his family in the living room. Today is a good day, he knew.