August 1979, 11:22AM-

I woke up that morning with the smell of her perfume still in my head but she was gone. We had been staying in the attic of my friend Randolph’s house. He was an ok guy but I swear he’s some sort of strange fetishist; we’ve managed to dig up a number of questionable photographs of boys from our high school in the miscellaneous boxes he has scattered about his attic. We spend many of our nights smoking pot and playing voyeurs of Randolph’s life.

Jane has concluded that he is approximately 37 years old, drives a windowless van for a reason, and has photographed at least 7 16 to 19 year old boys in his free time, most of whom seem rather fucked up in the photographs. He must use GHB or some sort of powerful barbiturates, but I digress.
I woke up that morning hoping that the previous night wasn’t a dream. I could smell her but she was gone. I put on my shoes and stuck my face out the small triangular attic window. Hot as shit, I thought, so I walked down the stairs and out the door without bothering to put on my pants. There was no one in the house when I left, I was sure of it; everyone had work that day except for me and her, and Randolph had an appointment to have his ass waxed; he’s been raving about it all week. I was getting skeptical of myself, was it all a dream? I was starting to feel the feeling again. I was losing touch.
An ice cream truck slowly crawled across the blistering pavement hissing it’s unforgettable song. “Every time”, I thought, “That fucking ice cream truck with nothing good, just fudgecicles and those goddamn power ranger or ninja turtle pops.” It was true, I hate fudgesicles, but every time I think about popsicles shaped like action heroes, something triggers a signal to my head. I knew why but…why now? It was all a little too perfect, like a movie. I felt like my life was just a movie. That’s when I dropped to the grass and started to cry. A few minutes later she came, slowly walking around the corner, and offered me a choco-taco. How’d she know that was my favorite ice cream? And why now? It was too perfect, just like a movie, just like a dream. I kept crying but ate the choco-taco as she watched with a smile, not saying anything. She loved it and so did I.