The taffy pulled and stretched and pulled and stretched until it wasn’t taffy anymore. It was a man. A gangly, sickly looking creature, but a man nonetheless. He blinked once, twice, surprise crossed his face as he realized he was, in fact, alive.
Ella Embry
Taffy is such a funny word meaning candy and insincere flattery…. its contradicting since candy makes us happy and insincere flattery probably pisses us off. Give someone a taffy today and decide what type of person you will be…
Sticky, delicious, and soooo sweet. I remember getting it at the state fair every year, it was one thing my Mom would always get us kids. It was so gooey and fun to play with. We were always finishing the bag before we even got home.
velvetdelenn
“Taffy? I don’t know what that means.” My daughter was inquisitive, naturally so. And this was just one of the many words she was learning.
i love to eat taffy. I hate when it sticks to my teeth though. It causes so much salive to build up in my mouth. My favorite taffy is laffy taffy. They can cause cavities.
Rachel Mapp
Laughy taffy. Taffy girl. Her hair was yellow and stringy. It lacked the shine and luster of real taffy. But I still wanted to pull it and twist it like taffy. heavens no, we must not eat it or put in our mouth. Much like an artichoke. Hairy. Sticky. Prickly. Not fun. Laughy taffy. The greatest candy in the world. My best friend next door.
Magnolia
She was eating taffy, the ends of it from hanging from her mouth.
He dives in to eat from that end.
Taffy is sticky, you see. It’s hard to pull it.
HAHAHA
laffy taffy. Thats what comes to mind. I want to try it, i havent eaten it yet. I was talking to adu today and it came up and i wa slik hmm, ive heard of it maybe i should try it. And then we had our hindi convo and we stopped talking about it. Hmm its cold, i wounder how laffy taffy tastes!
Kopal
The taffy was quite tasty. If it had poison, Juan could not tell. Fortunately, his healing factor would protect him from all such attempts on his life. He looked across at the baker, who smiled benignly.
The taffy was stuck to her teeth; a great speckled glob of it gummed her molars shut. That was the moment, of course, that the good looking new boy turned to her and said, “Hi, I’m Robert. What’s your name?”
Santa Monica. You, me, some good ol’ fashioned best friend fun. We ran along the boardwalk, across the beach, lapping up the waves. Catching up after months of absence and missed calls and not being able to keep in touch. But all I really remember is sitting on the pier, eating salt water taffy.
Sheena Singh
Of all the strange things people have ever said to me, being called taffy was probably the weirdest. I guess it makes sense if you know where it was coming from: namely, my ex-boyfriend.
3 years and a bad breakup later, this is, in his opinion, the most accurate representation of my character: twisty, complex and the place where all problems come to seek shelter in its pink, fluffy recesses. Taffy.
I think of pastel blue and rosebud pink, colors for a newborn. Sticky, stretchy, awful sugar rush. And I think of you: sandals in hand, chapped lips and squinting at the sea. Photo album memories.
He was sweet like taffy. The moistness of his lips always seemed to leave me exasperated. They took away the pain of tomorrow and rose the goodness of the past. In all simplicity, he was a sweet escape that opened my eyes to a land I never knew was possible. We were each others saviors, and after years of facing the demons alone, knowing I had finally found him was my heaven. I did not need the eternal glory of an afterlife as long as I had him. So here we stand, forevermore, you and I, are Bonnie and Clyde.
Isabella Jade
The way it sticks to your teeth reminds me of horse drawn carriages through Jackson Square in the French Quarter – only here we call it Roman Candy and I don’t see them anymore. I don’t know what happened to the Roman Candy sellers and why they disappeared but I have a hunch it had more to do with the 2005 Federal Flood than no one liking it anymore.
Rachel Dangermond
A sweet gummy candy that I used to eat when I was a kid. There is salt water taffy. It comes in different colors. I used to have fun pulling it apart.
Judy Hollister
She wasn’t as sweet as taffy, or endearing as The Golden Girls. She was hard, like the hood of your Suzuki truck. Or so we thought until the moment it hit the solid steel of that post at the end of the street. It was painful. But not as painful as when you used to wake up every day.
max
Warm, sweet, clinking against teeth, impatient but not wanting it to end.
She pulled the taffy from her mouth slowly, stretching it out from her face like the unsettling silence that had descended upon the two of them. Slowly, she wound the stringy candy around her tongue and made it disappear altogether. He couldn’t look away from her mouth.
Just dust
Serpentine taffies
Tracks in the sand
Echoes in the canyon
Hear teal in the sky
As rocks ricochet rust
Clouds shroud in cotton gauze
Feel reverberation in distant hooves
While fleet whispers rush through the grasses
It burned going down my throat. I never liked the stuff. But if force-feeding myself taffy was a step towards making this evening nice for her, then I’d gladly assault my taste buds for just a few seconds.
The taffy pulled and stretched and pulled and stretched until it wasn’t taffy anymore. It was a man. A gangly, sickly looking creature, but a man nonetheless. He blinked once, twice, surprise crossed his face as he realized he was, in fact, alive.
Taffy is such a funny word meaning candy and insincere flattery…. its contradicting since candy makes us happy and insincere flattery probably pisses us off. Give someone a taffy today and decide what type of person you will be…
Sticky, delicious, and soooo sweet. I remember getting it at the state fair every year, it was one thing my Mom would always get us kids. It was so gooey and fun to play with. We were always finishing the bag before we even got home.
“Taffy? I don’t know what that means.” My daughter was inquisitive, naturally so. And this was just one of the many words she was learning.
i love to eat taffy. I hate when it sticks to my teeth though. It causes so much salive to build up in my mouth. My favorite taffy is laffy taffy. They can cause cavities.
Laughy taffy. Taffy girl. Her hair was yellow and stringy. It lacked the shine and luster of real taffy. But I still wanted to pull it and twist it like taffy. heavens no, we must not eat it or put in our mouth. Much like an artichoke. Hairy. Sticky. Prickly. Not fun. Laughy taffy. The greatest candy in the world. My best friend next door.
She was eating taffy, the ends of it from hanging from her mouth.
He dives in to eat from that end.
Taffy is sticky, you see. It’s hard to pull it.
laffy taffy. Thats what comes to mind. I want to try it, i havent eaten it yet. I was talking to adu today and it came up and i wa slik hmm, ive heard of it maybe i should try it. And then we had our hindi convo and we stopped talking about it. Hmm its cold, i wounder how laffy taffy tastes!
The taffy was quite tasty. If it had poison, Juan could not tell. Fortunately, his healing factor would protect him from all such attempts on his life. He looked across at the baker, who smiled benignly.
Not sure what ‘taffy’ is. Maybe some kind of toffee! Or someone from Wales. Maybe I’ll google it……….
The taffy was stuck to her teeth; a great speckled glob of it gummed her molars shut. That was the moment, of course, that the good looking new boy turned to her and said, “Hi, I’m Robert. What’s your name?”
Santa Monica. You, me, some good ol’ fashioned best friend fun. We ran along the boardwalk, across the beach, lapping up the waves. Catching up after months of absence and missed calls and not being able to keep in touch. But all I really remember is sitting on the pier, eating salt water taffy.
Of all the strange things people have ever said to me, being called taffy was probably the weirdest. I guess it makes sense if you know where it was coming from: namely, my ex-boyfriend.
3 years and a bad breakup later, this is, in his opinion, the most accurate representation of my character: twisty, complex and the place where all problems come to seek shelter in its pink, fluffy recesses. Taffy.
He tasted of taffy.
I think of pastel blue and rosebud pink, colors for a newborn. Sticky, stretchy, awful sugar rush. And I think of you: sandals in hand, chapped lips and squinting at the sea. Photo album memories.
He was sweet like taffy. The moistness of his lips always seemed to leave me exasperated. They took away the pain of tomorrow and rose the goodness of the past. In all simplicity, he was a sweet escape that opened my eyes to a land I never knew was possible. We were each others saviors, and after years of facing the demons alone, knowing I had finally found him was my heaven. I did not need the eternal glory of an afterlife as long as I had him. So here we stand, forevermore, you and I, are Bonnie and Clyde.
The way it sticks to your teeth reminds me of horse drawn carriages through Jackson Square in the French Quarter – only here we call it Roman Candy and I don’t see them anymore. I don’t know what happened to the Roman Candy sellers and why they disappeared but I have a hunch it had more to do with the 2005 Federal Flood than no one liking it anymore.
A sweet gummy candy that I used to eat when I was a kid. There is salt water taffy. It comes in different colors. I used to have fun pulling it apart.
She wasn’t as sweet as taffy, or endearing as The Golden Girls. She was hard, like the hood of your Suzuki truck. Or so we thought until the moment it hit the solid steel of that post at the end of the street. It was painful. But not as painful as when you used to wake up every day.
Warm, sweet, clinking against teeth, impatient but not wanting it to end.
She pulled the taffy from her mouth slowly, stretching it out from her face like the unsettling silence that had descended upon the two of them. Slowly, she wound the stringy candy around her tongue and made it disappear altogether. He couldn’t look away from her mouth.
Just dust
Serpentine taffies
Tracks in the sand
Echoes in the canyon
Hear teal in the sky
As rocks ricochet rust
Clouds shroud in cotton gauze
Feel reverberation in distant hooves
While fleet whispers rush through the grasses
Taffy is good, taffy is sweet. I like the strawberry kind from the Willy Wonka company, but saltwater taffy’s much better than that.
It burned going down my throat. I never liked the stuff. But if force-feeding myself taffy was a step towards making this evening nice for her, then I’d gladly assault my taste buds for just a few seconds.