Turbid

Mary drove down the dirt road. The weather had turned suddenly from sunny and clear to rain, hail and what could be the beginnings of snow.
"Shit, shit," she said calmly more to the snow than the situation. There was a gas station at the side of the road and she pulled up. Getting out, she saw only two other cars, one parked in the employee parking zone and one at the gas pumps. She hurried into the building and looked around. A tall boy manned the register and an old woman eyed some chips in the candy/snacks aisle. Mary looked at her car through the window. It was really hailing.
"Hello there," the boy said.
Mary nodded and smiled.
Death Cab for Cutie's Your Bruise was playing over the radio. She listened, singing along in her head and looked at the magazines. Here eyes moved to the porn, but as she felt her cheeks burn, she moved to the gossip mags. The woman appeared beside her.
"Excuse me," she started in a voice Mary expected: meek and soft. "Do you have any change? I want to buy these chips but with the gas I come in just under."
Mary looked at her, not knowing what to do.
"I think I might."
She opened her wallet and dumped dimes and loonies into her hand. "How much do you need?"
"All of it," she said, holding up a gun.
"What the hell?"
The woman grabbed Mary's wallet and ran out of the store. Mary could only stand and stare.

So I didn't get around to using the word, but it did inspire me. Oh well. That was five minutes. Practice practice practice will pay off, right? Hopefully.