An ice cream cone sat on a fish's head as it stood on its fins, waving from a sea of scoops of ice cream.
It was an ugly mascot--even uglier in the setting sun where the fading sunlight highlighted the manic grin of the fish in the sea of fire balls. But I waited patiently for him as he finished the last few minutes of his shift wiping down tables that hadn't been used all day.
Our first year. A special one. My first one. Took us a while to get here. He promised it'd just be the two of us in celebration. After my birthday fiasco, he promised he'd be better.
The newspaper review of his family's ice cream shop when it first opened up was framed in a faded gold frame. The gold flaked off in places, revealed the black underneath. From what I remember, the review was a very positive one, praising his great-great-grandfather's creativity or some such. I guess it's because he used to create interesting ice cream flavors. His grandfather used to do that.
They don't do that anymore.
He just waved goodbye to his sister and stepped into the sunlight just as it receded past his feet.
"Hey," he grimaced as he saw me.
"Ready to go?"
"I can't today. Busy. The boys, you know. Next time, ey?"
He turned and walked away.
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