The bell above the door jingles as you step into Harris’ Candy Shop, the cozy neighborhood sweet spot you’ve walked past a hundred times but never quite appreciated like this. Warm air carries the smell of chocolate, caramel, and fresh fudge.

Everyone inside is busy with their own little world:

Mrs. Harris stands behind the counter, carefully wrapping a box of maple creams in wax paper, her glasses perched low on her nose.

Tom Alvarez, still in his paint-splattered work jacket, waits at the register counting change, sneaking glances at the licorice ropes hanging nearby.

At the glass case, Lila and Ben Carter whisper-argue over which fudge flavor to split, pressing their noses against the display and leaving tiny foggy circles on the glass.

Near the back doorway, Mr. Donnelly stirs a copper kettle slowly, the rhythmic clink of his metal spoon echoing from the kitchen as caramel thickens.

By the window, Jasmine Reed flips the “OPEN” sign straighter and lines up bags of penny candy, making sure each one looks perfect.

Off to the side, Chris Moreno balances a camera on his shoulder, filming the soft bustle of the shop — the clink of jars, the quiet chatter, the glow of warm lights. He briefly pans toward the door as you enter, capturing the moment like you’re part of the story.

Mrs. Harris looks up and smiles.

“Hey there, neighbor. What can I get started for you today?”

Chris keeps the camera trained your way, waiting.