Every so often we would stop playing, because the most delicious aroma swept over us. No one could ignore it.
"Licorice Factory!"
We drew in as much of that smell as we could. It was not just a licorice aroma, but a combination of candy flavorings, vanilla, and licorice.
The wind had to be just right in my neighborhood, to get the aroma, so playing stopped when we had a chance to enjoy it. The only thing comparable since has been a breeze across a field of clover. Two children said, "Bubble gum!" and I remembered the licorice factory.
I do not remember anything like tours of the licorice factory, or a cheerful and bright retail store. With a grim president like Smylie, they were probably not allowed.
