It was maybe the first job I’d ever had where people were happy to see me.
An odd feeling indeed, to wield this kind of power.
To be this kind of force.
As near to magical as any mortal should stride.
A technician of unspeakable joy.
Braving the neon mountains to return with blue raspberry concentrate.
Tearing out sundae cone fangs from the mouths of snow beasts.
And so on.
Cone dealer, sunshine stealer, alleyway counselor, lunch lady to the homeless, friend to the dead, maker of sandwiches. Metal wrangler. Stag among stags. And so it goes–another journey through time spent punched in. A life’s work of working for a living. Blood, death, and violence. Dirty dishes, dead roaches, and sparkler-lit nights. Nights ahead and no real fate. So open your mouths because the forecast calls for sprinkles. Thirteen delights, scooped and served. Let it melt down your hand. Let the sun burn your face. It’s the ice cream man, and other stories.
Read: Dragon, LitHub
Review: The Ice Cream Man & Other Stories: Fiction by Sam Pink, SouthWest Review
Prompt: Begin with a car. Describe the car. Then think back to a journey you took where something changed in you forever. Rework into fiction. Aim for 300 words.