I left just a little early for my pottery class last night. Dinner for my family was on the stove; meatballs and sliced eggplant in sausage spaghetti sauce, all they had to do was cook up some pasta, but I hadn't eaten. I had formulated a plan for myself that didn't include pasta. I was in the mood for ice cream, soft ice cream.
Rather than head directly toward the city of Rochester, I took a short detour toward the town of Williamson, stopping at Yai Yai's, the local ice cream shop. I had two dollars in my pocket as I stepped from my car into the deserted shop. It was supper time. In another hour or so the place would be crowded with customers clamoring for an evening treat, but I didn't even have to wait in line.
I enjoyed the thick creamy treat at leisure as I settled back into my seat and turned the van west down Route 104. I was all alone with my ice cream cone, and I'm pretty sure I was smiling.