"Listen, kid." Mona said, "I got to borrow cigarettes or Tampax. I only have a quarter."

Mona, a large woman with curly dark hair, occupied Virginia's wobbly metal trailer steps. Her breath hung In the chilly night air. She was white trash, in her cheap satin nightgown, covered with a ratty terrycloth robe. Virginia gripped the door handle fiercely, holding her front door open a few inches. Her eyes darted between her neighbor and the wall clock above the TV.

Mona shocked her by yanking the door handle,  pulling her out on the porch. The larger woman pushed through the doorway, leaving Virginia standing alone outside her own house.

"Colder than a well digger's ass," Mona said. "Tom Dick always says that. I don't believe he's ever dug one. How you suppose he'd know?"

Virginia stepped inside, eyes on the clock, keeping the door open behind her as an invitation to leave.

"What did you say?"

"About Tom Dick"s ass?" Mona  asked.

"Not that."

"Oh,  You have to help me out, kid. Cigarettes or Tampax. It's one or the other."

Virginia pulled the door closed and slid past the larger woman, making her way into the kitchen. She opened the freezer section, reaching for a pack of smokes when Mona surprised her, standing inches behind her.

"Is that all you've got?  Pall Malls? I don't like unfiltered."

"Know what? Jim's are it. I'm down to my last pack of Kents."

Virginia retrieved her single pack from the freezer shelf, holding them up as proof. Mona grabbed the pack, ripped it open, and dumped half on the kitchen counter. Several rolled off the edge, onto the linoleum.

"Just right. Payday is tomorrow. You'll get them before you even run out."

"Oh," Virginia said, bending by reflex to retrieve the cigarettes Mona had spilled. "Okay. Yeah, we can do that."

She rose, cradling the cigarettes in her open palm, to find Mona standing so close she was breathing on her cheek. She stumbled back awkwardly, her hip hitting the corner of the Formica counter. She glanced at the clock in the panel of the oven.

"Now," Mona said, "about them tampons."

"Right," Virginia said, "right. Tampax. Be right back."

She scurried down the hall. Opening the cabinet below the bathroom sink, she snatched an unopened box, and rushed back. She found Mona sitting on her sofa, lighting one of her cigarettes. Virginia thrust the box of tampons towards her uninvited guest, hoping to end the visit.

It took a moment to register the pistol pointed at her. It looked particularly small in Mona's beefy hand. A toy? One of those cigarette lighters she'd seen on TV ? One look into Mona's eyes answered that. Waving the gun up and down, she was telling Virginia to put the box on the coffee table.

"Thanks,"  Mona said. "Now, you just be a little lamb and sit your butt down in that armchair."

Virginia backed up until her thighs contacted the chair, and lowered herself slowly.

"There, kid. I can see the door and you can still see your clock. We'll both be tickled pink."

"What are you doing?"

"I guess we don't know, yet. Either I'm making an ass of myself and owe you cigarettes and pads. Or, I'm about to find out why Tom Dick has been coming home late, smelling like pussy."

Virginia stared at the clock. Mona stared at her.
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