frosting meant more than sugar

Tracy and I were in the fourth grade when cake frosting in plastic containers became part of supermarket landscapes.  We walked through the alley to our local store and into the bakery section, and bought a container.  We brought it back to my house.  My friend and I climbed inside my bedroom closet  and slid the door shut so that it was pitch black inside.   We sat side by side with our backs against the wall and each had plastic spoons. Both of us took turns dipping spoonfulls of frosting straight out of the container and into our mouths. We didn’t talk, a quiet communion with sugar. We were both searching for sweetness in our lives. Continue reading “Sweet Remembrance” »