Candyland Castle

Candyland Castle appeared in my front yard at dawn. With peppermint swirls and a stick of yellow taffy, said Ron. None of us believed him, he lies to us almost daily at work. But we followed him home, and it was there, said my cousin Gerk. So what did you do? I asked. She said “I ran out for a taste.” “Bet it was wonderful,” I suggested, too soon, in haste. The candy was old, petrified and stiff as a concrete stone monument. I broke out two of my teeth, guess that was my atonement.