Tires, hockey, club, bakery and ivy

Follow this link to read Robin's Results.  Mine are below

Tires gripped the asphalt as the car hit the icy curve too fast.  The bungee cord holding the passenger door in place stretched to its point of no return. A white box slid through the gap before the door slammed shut.

Dave watched the retreating taillights and shivered inside the light hockey jacket he'd worn non-stop for the last two years. He slowly checked in both directions for oncoming traffic before he darted onto the road and retrieved the broken box. One red velvet cupcake stood straight in the center of the box while cookie monster, minion and spiderman cupcakes lay dented on their sides. Two Olaf cupcakes had fallen from the box to hit the pavement upside down.  Dave grabbed those two by their paper liners and snapped them off just above their contact point with the road. Pleased with the day's bounty, food for the aching belly and a cardboard hat, he hurried back to the relative warmth and dryness afforded by the underpass.  Nothing at his Ivy League school had prepared him for the harsh reality of a wind pelting him with snow with the level of ruthlessness a homeless man experienced.

As a journalist, he'd done his research. He had expected rough conditions, a scarcity of food and cruel people. His undercover stint as a homeless man had shown him the other side of things, the compassion, decency and creativity of people on both sides of the situation.

The freedom was unexpected. No longer a slave to deadlines, cell phones and demands of family. He thrived on the streets, living like a wild man dependent on no one or nothing that his wits in order to survive. No more country club, fancy cars or facials.

The freedom had been a surprise but no more so than the realization that he liked it.  Dave bit down on Spiderman's head. Eighteen months after the assignment finished, he whooped as the sugar hit his malnourished bloodstream. He was never going back to civilization.