Candy Store

As a child I would often dream of venturing inside one of the chic candy stores I came across while strolling through downtown. In my dream it is snowing heavily and the wind is blowing a frenzy of flurries at my face. The candy store looks welcoming and is softly lit on the inside. I hear the bell ding atop the door announcing my arrival, and the friendly old lady behind the counter looks up and smiles. She knows my name and welcomes me. Caramel lights reflect off a glass case more suited for a jewelry store. The array of chocolates, truffles, and handmade fudge glisten on golden trays suited for a king.

The lady hands me one of the chocolate truffles. The thin shell cracks as my teeth penetrate the rich roasted soil that fills my mouth with chocolate. Smooth and sweet and subtle like fall.

Next, she hands me an unappealing piece of candy. I stare at the bumpy clump of hard amber that lands flat on my tongue. One bite sends shards of sweet butter and salt like glass off a broken bottle. It’s delicious and the lady tells me it’s called Peanut Brittle.

I point to the peppermint stick with its ruby red ribbon and the lady nods in approval. A winter tingle flows up my nose leaving a chilly trail as cold as the forgotten snow outside. I help myself to some sugary orange slices. Grainy and gummy they stick to my molars. Bright and citrus, like a young orange tree swaying in a spring breeze.

I then spy caramel apples standing at attention behind a glass case. The lady follows my gaze, and with a contemplating finger lightly tapping her chin, gladly hands me the largest one. I hold it steady in my small hand; the thin wooden stick cannot compete against a heavy caramelized apple. I maneuver a way to bite into it, and when I do, I hear the bite before I taste it. A shot of mist and juice trickles down my chin. Crisp and tart while gooey caramel pushes up behind my two front teeth.

I hear the bell ding as expected and I turn, curious to see who else has arrived at the candy store. I don’t recognize this small child, but she shares the same look of amazement that all children do when they first enter the candy store. I call out a futile hello, but like always, they never hear me. I wake from my dream and see the falling snow outside my window. I close my eyes because I can still picture that snow covered candy store shinning like gold in the distance. But like all dreams, it slowly begins to fade. Like an ember fading in the snow.

People also view

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *