“Anders couldn’t get to the bank until just before it closed, so of course the line was endless and he got stuck behind two women whose loud, stupid conversation put him in a murderous temper. He was never in the best of tempers anyway, Anders—a book critic known for the weary, elegant savagery with which he dispatched almost everything he reviewed.” 

In the first two sentences, the author’s lean, direct writing introduces the main character, places him in a dilemma, and sketches his angry personality.

“He was never in the best of tempers anyway, Anders—a book critic known for the weary, elegant savagery with which he dispatched almost everything he reviewed.” 

Anders is long practiced in the art of eviscerating books, a cruel task that he performs with gusto. Someone who dislikes and scorns everything, however, is doomed to unhappiness and may eventually break down. Anders sits on an emotional powder keg of his own making; shortly, someone will light its fuse.

“With the line still doubled around the rope, one of the tellers stuck a ‘POSITION CLOSED’ sign in her window and walked to the back of the bank, where she leaned against a desk and began to pass the time with a man shuffling papers. The women in front of Anders broke off their conversation and watched the teller with hatred. ‘Oh, that’s nice,’ one of them said. She turned to Anders and added, confident of his accord, ‘One of those little human touches that keep us coming back for more.’”

The women are right to resent the callous disregard shown by a teller who abandons her post at the most crowded bank hour. Anders understands this, but his previous irritation with their inane conversation, makes him vent his rage at the women instead of the teller.