White, creamy icing dripped like hot butter over the spiral wrapped pastry. Dark brown lines traced the roll like a swirling racetrack. The scent of the cinnamon roll wafted on the air, filling Hope’s nose with the warmth and sweetness of fall.
Her stomach growled and hunger took hold, tugging with an insatiable yearning. Fall was both her favorite and most hated time of the year. She loved the delicious foods and smells of the season. The biting winds and the approaching winter cold, not so much.