moon made of ice cream

Written by Cathoel Jorss, published 1 year ago

I showed up at the supermarket checkout at closing time with a tub of ice cream. She said, “How are we this evening,” and I said, “Well, I can’t speak for you, but I’m fine!” I gave her such a big smile she took a blink and stepped backwards. But she was game, we’re human, they could put big windows up high in those places to let the trapped staff gaze out. Rewards card? Nope. Bag? I opened my little folding one with a whoosh. “I’m in the supermarket, in my pyjamas, buying ice cream,” I rejoiced. “This is a beautiful night in my life.” She laughed. She folded up my receipt over and over into a very neat square then pushed it inside the bag. We wished each other a great evening. All the way home I was peering up through the windscreen following the shrouded moon. Brisbane, you have so very many trees. So many friendly young women who are competent and under employed. So many tubs of fine ice cream.