A Crunchy Biscotti Bridge

I waddled out into town on my bouncy rubber feet and slipped through the friendly door of a warm corner bakery. Up on a low wooden counter display rested a single, rock-hard almond biscotti perched across a paper napkin like a little rough bridge. Its toasted surface was packed with craggy fissures and pale almond slivers. I leaned in close and gave the dusty crust a sweet, curious lick—it tasted wonderfully of roasted nuts and warm cinnamon sugar! Feeling my afternoon strength bubble up, I braced my feet, hopped high, and delivered a joyful, mighty smash right onto its center. *Crack-snap!* It broke cleanly into two chunky golden halves, filling the air with sweet crumbs as I sat between them with a happy wiggle.