Imagine that you are walking, jogging, or biking on the Fayetteville trail. It's hot, but a breeze blows every once in a while to cool you off. You are proud of yourself for getting up off your lazy butt and getting on the trail. You feel like every person you pass has a fitness kinship with you-membership in a secret club of people who will live longer than everyone else.
You come to a curve near North street and the breeze brings your nose something familiar. A scent that is almost thick-almost heavy. Sweet, yet musty. You have smelled it many times before, but you just can't place it.
As you come around a bend, the smell hits you full force-as do the memories of cotton candy, loud music, jerky rides, dirty carnies, and barfing from too many rides on the "Himalaya".
A FUNNEL CAKE/SNOW CONE STAND RIGHT NEXT TO THE TRAIL?
Some people are just evil....