A Bone of Contention

Mrs. Currie rubs open a clear patch so she can see through her fogged up windows. It is 7:30 a.m. and, alone in her car, she becomes preoccupied with her accounts, mentally checking and rechecking whether she has enough to cover this month’s withdrawals. She waves to several people in the parking lot but doesn’t really see them. After a few minutes, she notices having eaten from a bag of stale potato chips on the passenger seat, and becomes angry for snacking without thinking.