Bina has no idea what is making the noise, but she'll be danged if she's going to face it without eating the danged tangerine.

Bina shoves the tangerine in her mouth. She bites down. Glorious moisture. Tangy and sweet.

It is delicious, skin and all.



The door bangs open.

It is a middle-aged white woman holding a box.



She seems flummoxed by Bina's presence here.

This does not last long.



She speaks French, very fast, with an accent that Bina has a hard time following.

What are you doing in her office?

Is that a dog? Is that YOUR dog?

Is that is her husbands tangerine you're eating?

Good god, is that all of that blood? What have you done to yourself girl?