Vsco Views

Lena’s life had turned into a grainy, overexposed film reel. Or at least, that’s how she framed it in her mind. She was a junior in high school, and her world had been reduced to the four-inch screen of her iPhone 12. Her currency wasn't money; it was likes . Her bible was the VSCO grid.

Lena put her phone in her pocket. She didn't take it out again. She walked down to the water’s edge, squatted low, and started tracing her fingers through the cold, wet sand, looking for the glint of a lost gold band. vsco views

As she stood up, brushing sand from her cargo pants, an old man appeared. He wasn't part of the aesthetic. He wore a faded navy sweater and carried a metal detector, its long pole scraping against the sand. He looked like a glitch in her carefully composed frame. Lena’s life had turned into a grainy, overexposed

Her caption was already forming in her head: “slow tides, soft minds.” Her currency wasn't money; it was likes

She deleted the photo. Not just from her camera roll, but from her VSCO draft folder, too.