Loss. Bitter, Horrible, Painful.

Down it fell. First flying up into the air, the slip of my fingers providing tangential acceleration. I watched it rise, out of my hands. My shocked eyes followed its upward trajectory. It reached its peak, stopping in mid-air for a moment of weightlessness, then began its descent. Down it fell. It fell faster and faster, into the void below, traversing in black slow-motion through the myriad layers of the atmosphere.

After an eternity, a silent scream escaped my lips. I didnt even react otherwise. Not fast enough to reach it. To save it from doom. To save myself. I couldnt even reach my hands out. I screamed silently. It landed. It landed, and rolled a few inches and then stood still. Its fluorescent green body unscarred, illuminous in the light, it looked up at me, knowing well enough that it was now safe from me. No one, after all, eats fallen candy. Even if its a Mentos.

*leans back in his armchair, and looks at the fire, a light shining in his eyes, reminiscing over a profound memory*

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was an hour ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. I'm sitting in class, waiting for something to happen and otherwise disturb the equilibrium of monotonous classes. My neighbour offered me this Mentos. My face breaking into a smile of oh joy is me!, I accepted it with trembling eager hands and began to open the wrapper.

It wouldnt. I blame this to my being in class at the time. Were I outside somewhere, you and I both know I would have quietly and efficiently dealt with this matter of mild insubordination. But classrooms sap my powers. Also my hands were under the desk, so didnt have the right torque acting for me you know. And I, experienced veteran of a billion plus species of toffee and candy, sat there and struggled with a regular mentos.

Exasperation grew. Tension rose. Sweat beaded my honest brow. My fingers ached with the continuous relentless effort. We C&Bs dont give up easy. Not on free toffee! I kept trying. The teacher's voice, mumbling something in favour of compression ignition engines, faded to the background. I concentrated.

Thats when things came about, falling in sequence with the inevitability of a Greek tragedy. I lost concentration. Frustration and disbelief at what was bloody happening here, made me exert that fatal last powerful tug, far above the critical wrapper-tug elastic limit. And it tore open.

It rose up into the air, flying out of the wrapper like a beautiful, tasty, minty, fluorescent green butterfly breaking free of its wrapper-istic chrysalis. My eyes widening in shock and the realization of impending doom, I watched it fall. It fell.

My friend, and his friends sitting beside him, watched in amusement [amusement!?!] and grinned [grinned!?!].

One: He he...Better luck next time.

Another: Ohh! But this one, you know, its so good. You missed out man.

I looked at them as if through a glass, darkly. Their candy-chewing faces were contorted in orgiastic pleasure, like Harsh's every time he sips his ice lime. [Damn. Got to tell you about that some time too. But later, later.]

I looked down again at the candy on the ground, so easily within reach, but yet so utterly lost. Oh! This damned Indian culture thing of not being able to eat fallen foodstuffs, except for that piece of cake that one time long ago!

I looked up again. I looked at him and I said in a cold voice, the voice bitter with loss and the pain of agony stifled in stoicism - I want two next time. Just in case...

People know when not to mess with me. He nodded.