She pushed the fire exit open with her back shoulder muscles. The cool evening air seethed into her lungs which promptly converted into relief in her blood.
She playfully descended the short staircase, pivoting slightly on the wet metal steps.
“Going somewhere Miss. Pisco?”
The pot slipped out of Henrietta’s hand. Out flew the pasta. The tomato sauce dyed her hair an even redder red. Much to her dismay something else flew out of the pan. A carefully concealed bag of rat feces.
An unintentional sadistic smile brushed the health inspectors face.
“What’s this?” she squawked supressing the tone in her voice.
She picked up the steamy plastic bag with the end of her umbrella.
“Spices in a boil bag.”
“Do you flavour all your pasta dishes with rat feces?”
The health inspector rhythmically noted something on her clipboard.
Henrietta stood besmirched.