Randy's tavern was almost empty as the day came to a close. The nearly endless line of job seekers had since dwindled. An exhausted young man with a ponytail rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes.
Mary approached the bar, slightly limping while holding two stone slates in her hands; she looked the man up and down and chuckled. "Geez, Randy, you look awful."
Randy rolled his tired and baggy eyes and yawned. "Says the homeless woman. Did you roll your way through the mud to get here?"
Mary looked down at her tattered peasant clothes, stained red with blood and caked in dried mud. The left side of her dress was utterly torn and embarrassingly revealed her undergarments below. She faced Randy with a scowl. "Not only did I survive a near-death experience on my way here, but I also had to stand in line for five hours while looking like this! Do you have any idea how itchy I am right now? Wearing these clothes is torture!"
