It was cold, much colder than any Halloween I remembered. A chill breeze was coming up from the river. Not a proper wind, just that slight movement in the air that lowered the perceived temperature by a few degrees and makes everyone put on an extra shirt.
There was something else in the wind, the sweet and pungent smell of fresh caramel mixed with other, even less healthy ingredients. I stopped at a corner, right under a streetlight and closed my eyes, appreciating all the different flavors in the wind.
My stomach gurgled.
‘Sorry, no deal.’ I thought patting my – sigh – ever so round tummy. I have no problem admitting that I have a weight problem. I’ve had it since I was 10: I like to eat and I make no excuses for it. That doesn’t mean that I have to be in love with my tummy though, I simply accept it.
In more than one way this was torture: I could sense all these amazing candies. I could probably pinpoint each type by smell from three blocks away a