Just last week Zoe reminded me how much she dislikes cinnamon candy. I told her that I don't like cinnamon candy either, but that sometimes I like those little red hots. She smelled weakness, and insisted again that she REALLY didn't like cinnamon candy. I insisted that I also really didn't like cinnamon candy. Zoe just stared at me. O, it was a cold, cold stare. But it was more than just a cold stare: it was the flinty glare of a purist.
Idea: Annette keeps cinnamon candy on her desk because she knows that it is the only candy that Zoe will not pilfer.
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