My sister chose quickly, a candy bar, its nougat core pliant before it reached her hand. I ran my finger down the penny candy cases, smearing an unwelcome path between circus peanuts and salt water taffy. Like those who would later call me slut, Mrs. Barton stood ready with paper towels, cleaning solution. I'd buy something that would make me sick – wax lips, candy cigarettes. We were the women we would become. My sister would marry a good man until death did its part, and I would fall for every blue-eyed black heart that shimmered before me.
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Bobby Warner
3/7/2020 01:44:25 pm
Great metaphorical slice of life and human nature; bittersweet. Good job.
Sue Clayton
4/7/2020 04:15:10 am
A life full of candy bars might be infinitely more boring than a life filled with wax lips and sweet cigarettes. Like your protagonist, I prefer variety in my confectionery and men. Nicely written.
Nan Wigington
12/7/2020 04:46:32 pm
Thanks for the read, Bobby and Sue. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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