Nostalgia – by Astrid

I was walking by an old ice cream shop that night. Its crusty, washed-out character pulled me in. Blindly, I followed the call of nostalgia and ordered a cup of vanilla soft serve with rainbow sprinkles.

An older couple sat beside me. Both the man and woman looked to be in their eighties. Oddly, they talked about their day as if the other one didn’t spend it with them. I listened closer and the man asked the woman a question that I didn’t expect.

“Did you get my text message this morning?” he asked.

“Yes I did,” she answered. “It was nice. Thank you.”

He explained to her that he spent the majority of his day rolling cigarettes. He rolled two packs for himself and six for her.

I’m lost by this. I couldn’t help but invent a dreamy story of love lost, re-connections, and happiness ever after.

But then I observed a loneliness which made me think of Meliah and the senselessness of life’s directions. I managed a spoonful and the cold cream hurt the lump in my throat. I threw the rest away and walked out.

I’m gone until I feel my phone vibrate. It was a text message from Adam. He was in the city and wanted to visit.

It was really bad idea and I texted him back anyway.

Good to hear from u

I sent him the address to the bar. He said he’d be there in twenty minutes.

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