Sugar
By Kim Davis
Every Halloween for about five or six years after I’d graduated from college, I’d receive a package of candy in the mail. The candy varied from year to year. Sometimes I’d get a bag of mini Snickers bars. Other times I’d get Kit Kats or Hershey bars. The candy was always something I liked because the sender knew what I liked and catered to my tastes. The candy was always sent to my parents’ house in Evanston, Illinois, and came from an address in Ann Arbor, Michigan. There was no sender’s name on the packages and no correspondence inside, but I knew who they were coming from. Then, one year, Halloween came and went and there was no candy. Then the same thing happened the next year and the next until I figured my candy man had given up on the treats for good.
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