She pops the compact back in the bag, then pokes through the rest of the contents before producing something small, round: ball-shaped. She tosses it at me and reflexively, I catch it.
A potato. A small one. Raw.
“Don't eat it all at once, Larry. They're quite nourishing, but you'll want to make it last. You won’t be getting another one for a day or two… Oh…” She raises a forefinger… “One more thing before I go…”
Another search in the bag: this time she produces a small paper-wrapped package. Taking her time, she opens the pack, revealing two golden-brown empanadas.
“Don’t get any ideas. They’re not for you. But they do smell nice, don’t they?” Juliana holds one to her nose and inhales, then lets the air out again. “Chicken and peas. Very popular with the locals.”
She bites, her teeth
