The weight of the lid was uneven against her palms. When she lifted it, to throw it back, a warm waft of sickly plastic rot came rushing out to greet her face. She turned away too late to avoid it. She found it funny that no matter where a dumpster was, or what went inside it, they all smelled the same. Grabbing two of the pizza boxes that she had just seen the man throw away, she closed the lid again and sat down on the pavement to eat as fast as she could. The white cheese had already hardened and the tomato sauce had turned to a paste. When she bit into it, the crust smelled like flour, having lost its succulence without the heat. But her starvation elevated both its status and flavor. It was the best pizza she had ever eaten.

Aria pulled the cheese off two slices, and placed it in front of Clifford. Her voracious chewing was making her view of him jiggle as she watched him. In the stress of the last few days, Clifford had failed to groom himself. His coat, which was usually shiny, was beginning to look dull.

Clifford sniffed at the cheese apprehensively. He seemed to be put off by it. Maybe it’s the tomato, she thought to herself. For the last two days, Aria had been suppressing the awareness that she did not have the wherewithal to take care of Clifford out here on the streets. She felt selfish for bringing him. And yet, until this moment, she had been able to lie to herself about his wellbeing enough to overlook the fact that he was beginning to decline. He had not eaten anything. She had tried on multiple occasions to find him something. But each time, he had protested. She wondered whether his pickiness genuinely owed itself to his tastes or whether it was a form of emotional protest taken out on the food. She knew the answer.

Aria felt sick to her stomach. Again, she found herself almost amused by one of the painful aspects of her current state. The body can be starving, but when it is too starving and you feed it, it rejects the food. One more of life’s little design flaws.

Nausea had a way of capturing all of her attention. So much so that she did not notice the man that she had been watching in the store just minutes before, rounding the corner and catching sight of her.

“Hey! You there!”

The words cut through her like a skewer. Suddenly, she was in a race. He was hurrying toward her, with the intention of shooing her off. Would he reach her before she could untie Clifford? Her fingers fumbled to loosen the knot.

It was anyone’s game. Like a gift from somewhere beyond her, the idea occurred to unclip the latch to Clifford’s collar.