Love is Like Stepping on a Lego

10 O'Clock Ice Cream Social

A young girl and elderly man sit together at a table; their sole company the orchestra of crickets outside and a drowsy dog lounging across their feet. The man has a sharp nose and grizzly beard, offset by eyes with multitudes of laugh lines crinkling at the corners. His breadth is sour with coffee and zaatar, and the scent of his cigar lingers on his clothes: a plaid button down with suspenders and worn blue jeans. He sits poised on the edge of his seat, glasses sliding down to the end of his hooked beak, mouth open in a mischievous, joyful smile. The child giggles relentlessly, smiling a wide, toothy grin, hair pulled back into a set of pigtails and sporting mismatched pajamas. Between them are two bowls, a large container of butter pecan ice cream, a jar of dulce de leche and a can of whip cream. The clock behind them reads 10:05, and the house is empty save for the old man's wife in the room above. No one is wiser about the escapades of the oddly matched pair during the night. Those three words are not spoken explicitly, but they hang in the air, tangible in the moment and the companionship between the two as they gorge themselves on sweets long into the night.