100 Word Competition NYT

My infant fingers, syrupy sweet, frantically swiped at the sticky backseat of my grandmother’s car. I had always revered my grandmother; she had an indescribable strength that I recognized even then. Yet, she was always the first to scold and say no to my juvenile desires. As my rainbow snowcone plummeted, I felt a new surge of fear and panic as I watched my once-in-a-lifetime treat fall onto the backseat of her spotless sudan. Just as my tears of guilt started to fall, my grandmother reached into the backseat, touching my cheek, letting me melt into her hand.