Victoria Heath

They had been gathered here for the fifth time, pulled into a life of centimetres and pounds and kilograms. Last week, they were told it would be the last time; the same the week before. Nothing had changed. Sometimes the boys would think about life outside of the scales. A life far away from holding their breath on this wretched thing, a life where the same scales were used to measure out ingredients for cakes and bread, a life where they judged each other for what was on the inside and not a number on a screen.

Seed by Victoria Heath. Image by Zed Nelson.