salt water taffy
On my way to lunch, I walk wet sidewalks. I have a date with the rain. Hood over hat, I look down more than up. Cars whiz past as I wait at the intersection. Round a corner I make my way across one street and down another, when what do I see? Neglected to the toes little pieces of salt water taffy, scattered about like cigarette butts. These pastel dandies, a rainbow of colors showing through their encasements, all tie for first place in the Wet Taffy Contest.