Ice cream walks. That’s my new thing lately. I haven’t been on one yet but I know it’s coming. Soon.
I imagine taking a cute lil stroll in the evening, around dusk (I wish we used that word more often), with a cute lil cardigan perched on my shoulders to warm me from the lingering spring chill.
I imagine sampling a few different flavors: pistachio, espresso, maybe even a mango sorbet, before settling on what I already knew I was going for. Chocolate or vanilla, or both. I’d save this two-scoop combo for a really good day.
I imagine what that first bite would taste like. A sharp sensation on the tongue, followed by soothing flavor. A bit sweet. A bit bitter.
Ice cream walks. We used to go on these during covid. After dinner, when the world was quiet and no-one was looking. And even though we didn’t get ice cream, it was still a vibe.
It’s more about the walk I guess.
Recently, I flew back to NYC from London, lucky enough to snag business class from a standby ticket. When the flight attendant came around to ask for my dessert order, I didn’t even hesitate to tell him I wanted the ice cream sundae. Vanilla with butterscotch. I knew it before the flight even took off.
The best thing about Sunday is desire. Desire to hit reset. Desire to finish the weekend on a high note. Desire for ritual. Desire to go with the wind. Desire to be. Before getting back to do’s and what not’s in the real world that await you in the next week.
Sunday’s feel like ice cream. That melt-in-your-mouth, slightly numbing, slightly naughty but I deserve this shit anyway feeling.
So, I scream.
Coz no one’s looking.
Desire tastes so much better when it’s just you.
love it - sunday is a sundae <3 !
🥵👌🏾