A piece of candy: a sugar story!

Submitted into Contest #100 in response to: Write a story that involves a secret or magic ingredient.... view prompt

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Christian Drama Horror

 How odd. Very odd indeed. Lin had this idiotic experience by getting a piece of candy down the wrong way. She got this sweet thing into her mouth, was about to feel its taste between teeth and sensing it with her tongue. But. It went wrong.

Her friend was there. They stood in her garden at Åbenrå street, Växjö. A place later to be known as the beginning of trauma. However. What are we to learn in life?

She felt a grip, Lin that is, this numb sense of magic, that was to be more of magic. A grip of the unknown. A kind of drama.

The piece of candy got stuck in her wrong throat. It happend in a brilliant million of a second that Lin could not count. It had to be that the candy was a magic piece of something.

She felt this methallic feeling coming over her. Like she had turned to stone, with ore in it. Hard. Stuck to the earth, and as this - the whole event made its proof to get the wrong track of life. It later was to turn Lin to become a schaman of life. A something so odd as a European schaman, which meant, many years later, that she had to be open to the stars and planet and her very gut feeling.

But at that moment when she began getting to know death she had no clue of what it was that came over her. The piece of candy was stone-stuck somewhere. She could not yell or scream. No sound came over her lips. She began running home, some seven houses away from where she was.

Red and white, striped...the sweet was as sweet as to all life´s ingredients, as death consist of life, and life only. All and everything begin to spin on us as we face our last moment. As a matter of fact life itself becomes so powerful that it holds several mirrors in front of us. Those mirrors later told Lin that facing death because of the ingredients in a piece of candy get you to know things. That is how holy sweets are. Sugar means a lot to human beings. Human milk is sweet. Sweet is our longing for love. Sweet our pretty children´s faces that make adult love us so much more. Sweet is our yearning to get to know life´s own issues. To get to know the seperate place we inherit because the role we have to play in life. A role that begins with birth and maybe – perhaps it does not end with death.

Because the ingredients of sugar make us melt. That is how holy sweets are. A piece of candy make us turn to our honey-partner. Chocolate and all.

Ingredients that make us go miles because sugar gives energy to our body, our mind and soul. Why else eat it? Why else sense its ingredients into some kind of magic moments of the past? Childhood when we feel our mother´s tits. The taste of life´s first milk. That first moment we are longing for, by getting to run for these ingredients...over and over!

Many years later Lin could recall what that piece of candy had done to her. Those seconds when she went into a slumber, into a dark abyss. The darkest place sometimes known as hell. But sugar saved her. Its ingredients had given her a new kind of strenght. It gave her energy to run and run homewards. Away, off, up to the point where the sky bent over and gave a cracking sound inside Lin´s poor brain. Someone turned her upside-down. Someone or something made that piece of candy coming out again.

She suddenly woke up. Sitting by the stairs. A woman beside her. Someone talked to Lin. A neighbour and her daughter.

She silently stood up on her shaking legs. As a matter of fact, all and everything within her was energy. Like she had got it from the empty hand of a Buddha. Or a priest. Or a yogi. Or Jesus Christ. Or a healer – just about any sort.

The woman talked. It was a kind of foreign, still human voice. Like a ringing tone from a mile´s distance. The energy within her had to begin to dance. Sway and pray and prancing with the summer sun. A holy moment. She walked home. Her friend, another friend had popped up from somewhere beyond the street of theirs. A whole bunch of children lived on that street.

In a couple of weeks things changed. Lin was just around seven years old at the time this happend. The thing is, that is why food had to become ingredients of something distant, foreign like a spit in the ocean. Some mixture of it all that made her go for the white stone. The alchemist´s white stone. But something was in her way…

She was just a silly girl. She had nothing to live up to. Nothing to prove. And still - - -

Dashed balderdick and flabberytrick. Odd words from the mouth of silence.

Her mother back home began nagging. What had happend to her daughter? Why so eager suddenly? Why so ill-tempered? Why so naughty? Why so everything on top of everything?

Many years later, a whole bunch of years, Lin tried to understand. Why could not her mum understand what had happend to her? When Lin tried to give a meaning to her trauma she felt over and over a numb grip, a kind of nothingness holding her, not letting her step into the outer realm. Something, someone held her back.

She had taken that piece of candy into her mouth. And now she had come to some kind of conclusion. Death is not a playful game. Death is serious. When its grip try out our fear we have to sense the deepest core of our soul. A mixture of ingredients coming from our DNA. And DNA like to build upon sugar and sugar alone. Inside its spiral galaxy we can feel the meaning of coming alive, being alive, because space and time spin and spin our spirals up and down to create all flesh out of the empty stuff of magic ingredients. Not that we can see it. Hear it, no! But somehow deep at dark nights when we fall in a slumber the ingredients of magic give us a syllable, a name, a chord...up up up…

Sugar in our DNA is magic then. Why not? Ingredients of life only...

June 29, 2021 12:23

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