The Ice Scream Man

One of my favorite things about summer was the arrival of the ice cream man. You could count on him like clockwork. As soon as the days got longer, and the temperatures rose in early June, you’d hear that familiar jingle that seemed to come from a dream, and end up right in front of your door. So as I sat on my porch that first day on summer waiting to hear the familiar chime of the ice cream bells, I was a bit startled by the sight that arrived almost stealthily in front of my house. It was a black van with the letters I and C painted on the side, and it didn’t make a sound. It just sat there with the motor running. Through the window I could see the shadow of a driver, his eyes glowing a pale white, hair crazy and wild, sticking up this way and that. Suddenly, a hand popped out of the door holding a single ice cream cone dripping and melting chocolate goo all over his strange looking arm...