Who: Marco Medina and OPEN TO ALL What: Wandering When: Friday, Jan 16, mid-afternoon. Where: Church steps. Rating: PG-13 because he swears in his head. Status: In progress
Vanilla had a distinct green tinge, Marco decided with the detachment of an outside observer. It colored the edges of his ice cream cone, right where white met sunlight. Not a bad combination and something reminiscent of the Mexican flag, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't totally right.
"What's right, anyway?" Marco muttered, examining the ice cream like he would a human heart. The cement under his ass was just as cold. Why didn't it merit the name of ice walk instead? Sidewalk was overused.
"The opposite of left," he snorted, back against a parked car and fingers drumming on the hood. "Duh. You can be so slow sometimes." He paused, licked chapped lips and nodded to the car. "Think it's insured?"
"No clue. But you're not wreaking it."
A woman passed by a little faster with a stroller. Another changed sidewalks when she heard him.
"Down, boy," he snorted, ice cream melting over his fingers. "You're scaring the opposite sex."