Glancing across the shop floor his fingers were distorted by the curvature of the thick glass they crept behind. Like well-fed sausages. He calmly withdrew his hand from the jar, taking with it a dusty pink strawberry bon bon. His fingers could barely form a fist around the sugared toffee. The hand paused from its withdrawal, wresting motionless mid-air. It's at this moment I realised that the tepid little child had been looking at me. I was so engrossed in his embezzlement I hadn’t noticed. Our eyes met. Without blinking he raised the fist to his mouth, herding the piece of candy with an open palm into his tiny little gob. Mouth half open he bit down on the hard toffee. An act that showed a complete disregard for the nature of the candy. Led by his mother he moved towards me, circling the perimeter of the shop, stopping by the cashier next to where I was standing. His 3’4” commanded far more attention than it deserved. I’m almost certain he still hadn’t blinked. I watched as the boy slowly pushed the half-chewed confectionary to the front of his mouth, parading it like a hapless victim. He tilted his head forward until the sodden candy teetered on the edge of his bottom lip.  His eyes still holding my gaze, he let the salmony globule fall to earth. It glided to the floor like Halley’s comet, followed by a tail of saliva. It lay at my feet in a puddle of congealed pink sugary spittle. Never has such a sweet tasting thing signified such a feeling of contempt.