Suspending all pride, she spent her last dollars on a one way ticket to The Salvation Army office.
“I’m here about the food vouchers,” she whispered in shame.
The silver-haired assessor scrutinised her navy suit, immaculate makeup, ballerina hair.
“I’m sorry but I don’t think you need them,” he declared, annoyed at her audacity for even asking.
“But I don’t have any money or a job. I haven’t eaten since Tuesday.”
“Well you look pretty fine to me! You shouldn’t abuse these services.”
She walked home and had tissues for dinner.