Black Market

Under the tack room blackboard, a little bowl of candy was forever being emptied and refilled. We became dependent on those tootsie rolls, twizzlers, blow pops, and chocolates. Sometimes, when the bowl sat empty, outbreaks of desperation seized the barn. A black market sprung up as Libby routinely sold her soul for Sarah’s secret candy stash. But when Libby had no more to offer, she had to hunt for her sweets, under hunt caps, in the pockets of dormant kennel coats, everywhere. But when she found the hoard, the accompanying written note, warning against thievery, sent shivers down her spine.