A chiming of bells beside her cubicle announced the arrival of the food truck. Actually more of a small cart. "Free frankfurters again," said the young man who was driving it. He was wearing a red "Food Truck" cap and a fake diamond earring in his right ear.

Soon Clara was sitting in her cubicle with a sausage covered with green relish, mustard, and ketchup. The whole embedded in a soft white roll. Beside it was a sweet orange drink in a silver can, a golden bag that when opened contained thin crispy potato slices, and a translucent package of two small chocolate cookie and frosting sandwiches.

She ate all of these things. Then, using her backpack as a pillow, she crawled under the blanket and went to sleep. It had been a long day.