Ice Cream

He watched the boy eating ice cream. Spoonful after spoonful of a chocolate and vanilla swirl. Had a cherry on top.

The kid was very intent on finishing the bowl. His brown eyes were big.The man rocked back and forth in his chair thinking about when he was his age.

His father had a wooden ice cream maker with a crank on it that twirled the bucket filled with cream amongst the ice and rock salt. For a weight to press down on the crate, the boy would sit on top with a towel to keep from freezer burn. They both laughed till the product was finished.

Not these days, the old man thought. Now days they have fancy ice cream makers that sit on the kitchen counter. And the kid was serious about the ice cream; no laughter, no father son team to achieve a goal. Just press a button.

The kid finished his bowl and the old man wondered, did he even enjoy it?

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The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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