The Golden Twirl

I bolted through the front yard gate and trotted down the street until an incredible buttery smell stopped me right in my tracks! Outside the bakery door, sitting on a low wooden bench, was a red paper tray holding a massive golden-brown cinnamon twist pastry. Those twisted sugar ridges looked like a spiral mountain! I scrambled up the bench leg, planted both boots firmly on the paper edge, and wrapped my arms around the highest sugary curl to test its hold. Warm cinnamon flakes rained down around my feet, sticking to the grease-stained paper. What a climb—and the smell alone gave me a giant boost of energy!