The snickering of a mouse was shyly hidden behind rusted trash cans. The stomach of the bins were full with rotting food, placed behind a restaurant. Sitting in the back alleyway, a man ,was gathering himself. He picked up his rags and went to the corner of the street, where he sat mute and observant. There were only a few people entering and exiting the restaurant. Walking past him with shameful eyes shaded by their pride. Some shot him a few looks of disgust, other’s were heartfelt apologies tied to their hearts. He noticed many people, it’s all he did. Sitting day and night , tortured by the wind warmed by fake smiles.
The restaurant was reaching it’s close, the owners agitated pacing stomped through the building. The ringing of the bell echoing through the street. Whistles from the staff and the shaking of coins. Emerging from the entrance, was a mother and her daughter, hand in hand passing the old man. He tilted his head, started to pack his things in a beggared pace. While his beard fluttered across his chest, his disheveled hair obstructing his view. The little girl stood before him. With a half-eaten ice cream in hand, the redness melting onto her fingers. ‘’It’s cold, but it can keep your heart warm, ‘She said with a sincere smile. He reached for it with humble hands. His eyes thanking her with sparks of gratitude. He watched as the little girl, in her sparkling dress disappeared into the night.
He smiled. A star greeted him that day, and would forever change his sky. The next day, as in routine he sat at the edge of the street. With his lucky cup in hand . The heat of the day caused him to seek shade. He found a torn hat, wedged between dusted books. A few people walked past and threw favors into his cup. A few coins, gum, paper. He shook the cup, measuring it’s weight with a hopeful soul. He took his hat down, defeated and exhausted from the day. He tilted his head and panned it up to be met by wide-eyes. She sat this time, right in front of him. On her knees, resting her hands on her lap, in a sitting position. Tilting her head she said, ‘My name’s Emily, what’s yours?. The man was surprised, that his aging features did not scare the child. He replied, ‘They call me Odor,’’. He didn’t have to force a smile this time . Her mother called her name in the background, she turned to asses her mother’s state.
She brushed it off, noticing her mother in conversation with a shop owner. She looked back at the man. ‘The other day I had ice cream because I was sad’’, she said twiddling her thumbs. ‘’Why were you sad?, ‘he asked shading his teeth. ‘My father loved that kind of ice cream, I miss him, ‘she said .Before further conversation could ensue, she was called again. This time she stood and before leaving,
she gave him a menu. An ice cream menu. He was confused, touching the paper like a well crafted tool. ‘’Tomorrow I can get you any one of these ,’’she said. ''But I personally prefer the red one,''she added . ''Then she was off, striding down the street with her ginger locks dancing in the wind. ‘He noticed as the little girl took her mother’s hand, her ring less hand. He started to ponder on this family before him.
The next day, the girl ran out of the busy restaurant. Escaping the sensations of food and ran outside. Brushing past fetid auras and dingy spaces. The place where the man sat was empty, there was a curve created by his presence . She looked around in a daze before her ears jolted to the sound of an ice-cream man on a bicycle. Cycling down the street, with a box oddly attached to the front. Water ripping from the melting ice. Carrying a man casually dressed but having a rough exterior. The dreads hung from a messy bun, dirt dripping from the tips. She noticed his smile , it was the old man.
He stopped before her and scurried through his box of goodies. He presented her with a gift. The same red melted ice-cream she found sentimental. And said, ‘It’s cold , but it may just warm your heart,’’. Her cheeks were dotted with dimples and the sparks in her eyes shined like stars.
