First Taste of Ice Cream

Things were moving too fast to define. It was a montage so neatly edited and cross-faded that he saw it all as one event. He had glazed over in all faculties. His first taste of ice cream became his first kiss and that became a car accident he had forgotten. They found his watch jammed in the back door of the station wagon. His shoulder blade had broken the seat back. He had clenched the shift lever so hard on impact that he had torn it from the bell housing. The details were all there. The smell of Garry Oak leaves burning. The feel of a live salmon in his hands. Icicles along his eyelids as he carved a J turn away from the net on an outdoor rink in a town with

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