In the middle of January is when I lost my first original love. She had purchased a snow cone from a street vendor who only charged her a smile. Yes, a smile.
As she licked it she was brought back to a time when she was a child of only five. Her mother did not pay her much attention in those days. But usually because she was too inebriated to stand on her own two feet.
My original love she always thought of this when enjoying a snow cone or any other childhood treat. Sometimes she'd cry out loud if only to hear herself lose control.
Then one morning she finally lost complete and utter control. She mouthed off to the snow cone vendor and threw crushed ice at his face.
Some passerby interpreted this as a crime and phoned the local police. When the police arrived at the scene they saw her foaming at the mouth and felt it necessary to taze her.
Unfortunately, the voltage was just a bit too much for her fragile body to handle. Her brain literally imploded from the high voltage. She was buried next to her Mother.
All this happened in the middle of January. I lost my original love. I lost her when she lost herself.
I am reminded of this whenever I see a woman enjoying a snow cone.
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