So, I drove alone one day from Sterling to Soldotna. About 10 miles. Had to get some groceries, and it was a chance to go to some of the stores which had aroused my interest as we drove past them earlier. One was The Moose is Loose Bakery. I snuck in there. The place was full. There were about 10 children lined up choosing what they wanted—with adult supervision. On my way in I saw one boy go out carrying a giant donut. Don't even go there, my rational mind screamed. Hey, no problem. There were cinnamon rolls, danish, eclairs, meaningless cookies. And yes, large and small donuts. I settled rather quickly on the raisin-studded cinnamon roll, and somehow managed to get waited on while the children were still huddled and deciding. Having a shred of fairness, I did think to get a thick almond-flecked snowball cookie for Andre. Then I ran to the car clutching my bag, noticing on my way the children—happily munching—in the parking lot waiting for the rest of their crew.

I do have to tell you that this was a modest cinnamon roll. Meaning it was the size of one fist rather than two, and was an inch high at best, rather than two. And the icing was spread appealingly over the whole roll, and somewhat transparent, rather than in a thick glop on top. Meaning it cost perhaps $1.69 rather than $4.95 and promised to deliver some taste.

I tore into it, needing to find out. Then I drove to the grocery store next door and parked. Then I began eating it, unwinding it slowly. It was sweet, sticky, delectable. Another bite. One more. I should save some for later. I continued to eat and enjoy, because, after all, no one knew what I was up to. And doesn't that add to the pleasure? Or do I mean does sneaking add to the pleasure. I looked up and surveyed the heavy sky, the crowded parking lot. Then I saw the woman in the car facing me. The big green one. She was chewing too. Mirrored, I laughed. Felt a warm glow of kinship. Sisters. But she didn't look especially happy. She didn't return my smile. My little wave. This eating in the sanctuary of one's car parked in a vast mall lot is serious business. Ecstatic maybe, but serious.