Uh oh, I like the way this winds up timing out with the other story elements. This then winds up being ammunition for her later use if needed.

The physical and psychological state of the junkie is well observed: stacking infinite jars and cans on infinite shelves – a horrible, weary feeling of recursion, never able to break out of the cycle. And in the last line, Maryanne’s relish at her discovery is palpable.