Cotton Candy

If you judged her life based on her social media presence, you would think it was all cotton candy and joy. The reality is different from the online persona. She’s not alone in this. We all do it. The trick is to find the secret reality behind the facade.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “cotton candy.”

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Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

6 thoughts on “Cotton Candy”

  1. What was more fun as a child than going to a circus or a fair and seeing those huge clouds of pink fluff on a paper tube cone? To me the soft, fluffy delicious sugar treat was like magic. Putting your mouth up against the pink cloud would make it melt away mysteriously once the heat of your mouth touched it. Pieces of the cloud melted and left tiny bits of sugary delight changing to a darker mauve. It was definitely a magical act. You could pick at it with your fingers. It was sticky and messy but plucking that sugar delight and popping it in your mouth was always fun. Of course, now we all know how bad sugar is for children. We know it gives them a buzz. I have to admit that despite it being bad for my waistline I have been sorely tempted to buy a cotton candy machine for one of my grandchildren. How devious an idea! I could enjoy the fringe benefit of being able to eat it more often without making a fool of myself by buying the machine for myself.

  2. Carnivals and cotton candy and unreality; they go together. Not altogether bad; not altogether good. We need fantasy, cloying sweetness, escape at times. The problem lies in trying to make them last forever and naming them “our way of life.” A problem lies in the ultimate unreality of: thinking our way of life is what everyone else lives. Thank God, most of us live with reality: life is definitely not all cotton candy, fantasy, escape for the overwhelming majority of people on this planet.

  3. I dreamt one night of a very sweet man, a feast for the eyes—eye candy. My sweetheart’s sentiments dripped from his tongue like honey and made me crave a little sugar. I stole a kiss, and all at once my big hunk disintegrated like cotton candy against my lips.

  4. I opened my palm
    and my breath settled down
    as fleeting wispy
    and fragile \as the cotton candy
    before all of it blew away
    i closed my fist
    trapping half a breath
    it shook my fist so
    my heart jumped up at the sound
    rattling against
    my rib cage
    willing to be unimprisoned
    an invisible force jolted
    my hand
    needing my last breath
    but I held tenaciously
    on
    like the last
    yellowed leaf
    of autumn
    with a
    green heart.

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