THE ART OF BURNING

post: epilogue

[ ━━ ❝ ✧˚⋆｡☾✩˚⋆｡࿐❞ ━━ ]
CAIN
(2028)

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER."

I'm running after the ice cream truck in a full-on white tux, sweating out of my ass. The July heat is sweltering.

"Cain, shut the fuck up!" shouts Atlas as he chases after me like the lovesick idiot he is, clad in a matching black one. "There are children out here."

True to his word, my eight-year-old little sister Liv lags several feet behind us, yelling for us to wait up, she's got little legs. Livvy's the entire reason we're in this predicament. She doesn't fuck around when it comes to ice cream.

(I think the ice cream truck driver is genuinely scared of her. She has his route memorized. She knows when he's coming, and she waits for him, and she gets very, very upset when he doesn't have anymore Spongebob-shaped popsicles. Once, they were completely out of them, and she had to settle for Spiderman instead. She swears to me that she hasn't seen that particular driver since.)

As you might have guessed, my father married Bianca Mendoza after we returned to our home dimension. The ceremony was small and sweet. I was my dad's best man; Rachel Bianca's maid of honor. They combined their last names. Me and Bianca might have gotten off on the wrong foot, but that last year or so I spent living at home was pretty great. She wasn't some evil step-mother. And, like, two years after their marriage, Bianca had little Livna Mendoza-Terranova. I live-Tweeted her birth and made the local news. It was awesome. Anywho, she's the first (and only) legitimate child of my dad's, so go her. And go him for having three children with three different women, one of whom is still in prison. Love you, mom.

I seriously love Liv. She's the cutest thing in the entire world, but she's a handful. Crazy smart like Rachel and her mom, but, like me and our dad, always getting into trouble. She skipped first grade, but just last week she was kicked out of summer camp for giving a boy a black eye. That girl is something else. I'd do anything to protect her.

A brief spiel on Rachel while on the topic of my sisters: she graduated summa cum laude from Stanford and was immediately picked up by NASA. She's worked there for the past two years, and I know she's some kind of engineer, but I honestly couldn't tell you what she does. It's "classified." I hope it's something to do with aliens. She also told our dad that she's bisexual and he took it swimmingly. She lives in Huntsville, Alabama with two dogs and a cat. We Skype a lot. I miss having her around.

And speaking of my dad: he shut the Villa down before he married Bianca. This old Italian restaurant in Berlin, Mama Abbatelli's, was looking for new owners. The old one was like three-hundred years old and dying. Dad and his forever-business-partner, Eva Villa, somehow managed to be the highest bidders. They're still running it today.

"That man isn't gonna rob me of an ice pop," I grumble, suddenly catching a burst of speed.

What, did you think I was out here trying to make my little sister's day by getting her her favorite ice cream, no matter what it costs me? No. I want this for me and only me. This is my day.

The truck makes a sharp turn. The driver leans his head out the window, suddenly seeming to realize that he has two grown men and a soon-to-be-third-grader hot on his trail. Easy kills.