Fries

Marjorie's hand instinctively reached into the trashcan, where amidst the soiled facial tissues and paper towels shimmered a plateful of curly fries. Softly rounded, soaked in oil and fried to golden perfection potatoes were still warm, warm enough to flood the entire bathroom with their distinctly sweet and earthy odor. A few of them were lightly coated in ketchup. Marjorie could already see herself grabbing one from the top and stuffing it into her mouth. She already envisioned he satisfaction of feeling something crunchy and moist on her tongue. But the paper towels! The tissues! The trash can! She pulled out and slapped her hand against the sink. For the rest of the afternoon, as the ladies in the office tried to pinpoint the identity of the perpetrator who left a plateful of curly fries in the co-ed bathroom, Marjorie quietly enjoyed her own heroic abstinence.