A depressing book would be proud.

 It was a dark morning, a figure in a black tee shirt, a tie, jeans and a shoulder bag, stepped out of the dull misty fog that had become nearly impenetrable, even worse in the dark of the morning. She looked a little too pleased with herself. Of course, there was a perfectly logical reason that she should look like that. Breakfast was powdered eggs, and she had outsmarted them.