My husband followed her with his eyes.
“I don’t know.”
The woman stopped beside another table.
This time, she opened a red fries carton.
For just a second, hope crossed her face.
Then she tipped the carton upside down.
Three fries slid into her hand.
She smiled.
It wasn’t a happy smile.
It was the kind of smile that appears when someone has almost nothing and briefly thinks they’ve found something.
Then her shoulders fell.
The fries were soaked in spilled soda. She stared at them for a moment before quietly placing them back into the carton.
She whispered, “Maybe the next one.”
