The Ice Man

A change is gonna come has been used far too much, but I think I’ll use it one more time, it came the other night through a storm and a flurry of words convulsivly thrown up at me in what was supposed to be helpful insight.    I can tell you it was not what you would have expected in the way of helping.   Come again? What were you thinking?  He said.  How could you think you were helping her?  He said.

Answers were supposed to come in rapid fire like responses, but I wasn’t feeling much like responding.  I hadn’t the foggiest idea what I was even thinking, let alone answering some psycho babble.

After all the spewing had escaped I noticed spittle dripping on his chin and my eyes were red and non responsive, I cannot imagine how I survived such a blast of artic air and that was quite something considering  I wasn’t even standing in front of the ice machine.    This was over, the airwaves weren’t going to hurt me again in the way it had in the past.  Yes, there was pain initially and yes, some of what icicles penetrated my pump and hurt and dug way too deep, but not again.  I have been forgiven by the Almighty on high and I’ll forgive the iceman and in hopes of an ensuing flood of bergs I’ll be ready the next time and as God as my witness there will be a next time, I’ll be ready with the heat sources to stop the steady stream of icicles and such.

He reins with ice capped teeth blowing instructions and orders like darts being thrown across a room of beer happy patrons and he expects me to follow every word he says.  I’m gaining strength, I’m not listening to this senseless tirade.  I say.  I slowly, as slow, as thoughtful turn, can be, turn to the left and work my muscles out the door, and in the background it is snowing.

To be continued I’m sure.