Ice-cream… ugh why ice-cream? Vanilla freckled by bean bits. Or cherry mixed in frozen fruit and topped by chocolate chunks. Nestled in a waffle cone and licked – lapped – by a clover honey blond. A blond with green eyes – the green of soy beans in summer, corn stalks and late leaves… Kelly green. The green of home. Home. We’re all going to die out here, sooner than before. Maybe, maybe they’ll send my body home and maybe, maybe bury me with ice cream.