Madhouse

Hellweek, but good news! My math grade is reviving. We are on the edge of Christmas vacation--the last leg of highschool now stretches out before us. It is Sarah's birthday today, and thus, the last of the Novembers has left a year behind.

--o--

MADHOUSE.

The air is saccharine and heavy and makes my head swirl, because everything smells of chocolate. Have you ever tasted the floor of a candy shop? All wrappers and sugar and last week's bubblegum coated with dust. Peeling, colorful wallpaper. And skin..pink and round and smooth.

The woman behind the counter is as thin as a lollipop stick, peering through her waterfall hair. The voices of candy move through her eyes-- glazed over with warm caramel, and a pupil of dark chocolate. (There is only one) She doesn't say a word, her fingers speak for her. Leona is neither deaf nor mute. It is a choice.

I am too short--bespectacled without need and three years younger than my actual age. We stare at each other while the drugging aroma penetrates my nostrils.

"What do you need?" ask Leona's fingers.

I shrug, glancing at a random shelf. "I don't know. Maybe something with chocolate."

Leona looks at the shelf, and her fingers pause, looking thoughtful.

"But we have lots of things with chocolate. Silver pie, Truffle cake, Hornet's nest. Chocolate professors, chocolate mutineers, chocolate criminals."

She moves, suddenly. It is a movement too fast for the weighed-down pace of a candy shop--all coated with sugar; crystallizing.

"We have a series of them. Pick one, if you'd like." Her fingers had a bit of trouble explaining and getting the series of transparent crates down from the shelf. I could only watch in amazement as boxes upon boxes of chocolate figurines piled onto the candy shop counter.

Leona looked satisfied as she put the last box down in front of me. Her fingers smiled with a flourish.

"Here you are. Our whole chocolate series."

My eyes climb over each box hungrily. Each piece of candy was an artfully crafted chocolate figurine. There were different kinds of figurines in each box--every one being unique and eerily lifelike. I peered into the box of chocolate children, and was surprised to find a chocolate in the exact shape and dress of a girl from my school, who went by the name of Dominique Tee.

I reached inside the box and pointed to the figure.

Leona nodded and reached for a pair of glass tongs on the left end of the counter.

"Good choice." remarked her fingers. The chocolate was wrapped in silver foil and handed to me in a paper bag.

I handed Leona the money, and exited the shop.

Dominique Tee tasted rather good.