The present was better. Much, much better. Humans had coffee now. And gelato.
When I have a bad day, I dream about opening up a gelato stand on the streets of Sydney, Australia. Doesn't everyone have a random escape fantasy?
This is how life works. Deciding whom to love is not an alien form of decision-making , a romantic interlude in the midst of normal life. Instead, decisions about whom to love are more intense versions of the sorts of decisions we make throughout the course of our existence, from what kind of gelato to order to what career to pursue. Living is an inherently emotional business.
I get a message from my dad. In the mood I'm in, I tear up to see his name in my inbox, and imagine him down the hall in bed, propped on pillows, emailing me. "Hon,Enjoyed our gelato date the other night. I just want to say I'm proud of you for a lot of reasons. Also, I've attached a picture of my foot."He's such a weirdo goofball. I love him.
My boss seems to think that my hair is gonna fall off & go into the ice cream. This hair ain't movin' my dude. 150mph on the highway on a street bike it doesn't move! What makes you think it's gonna move in a gelato shop?
He walked out of the hospital into the sun, into open air for the first time in months, out of the green-lit rooms that lay like glass in his mind. He stood there breathing everything in, the hurry of everyone. First, he thought, I need shoes with rubber on the bottom. I need gelato.
"What?" He cut a grin at Kat when he saw the impressed look on her face. "Corporate espionage is my second greatest passion." "With your first being..." Kat prompted. "Gelato," Hale said, and turned back to the group.
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