Blue dots
Amy Braunschweiger and I were lunching at Cafe Pakiderm, where our glasses featured water that was unfortunately luke warm. We asked the waiter for ice, which he promptly brought.
“There are blue dots in the cubes,” said Amy. And she was right. There were blue specs in the ice cubes. When we looked around the cafe, all other cubes had blue specs.
The water and cubes tasted fine though.
For the rest of the day, I saw blue in ice. On the frozen streets, in the Cocacola glasses on the Times Square billboards, in the sip-cups the mothers where handing to their infants, in my frozen breath moments after an exhalation.
Amy thinks it’s bad, more doom to come. I suspect she’s right; or, absolutely nothing will happen.
