Kenny sat on the fire hydrant, eating his ice cream cone and watching the world go by. He was seated on his surprisingly comfortable red perch and his biggest concern in the world was that of twisting and turning and licking his dessert in order to keep the mint chocolate chip from dripping onto his hand on this hot summer evening.
Kenny sat and he ate and he watched the bunny who thought it could turn invisible if it stood stock still. Kenny swung his legs and kicked the chain that attached the cover to its hydrant; the bunny darted away into the bushes.
Kenny sat and he ate and he watched the couple push their stroller on the uneven sidewalk bouncing the toddler therein. Kenny nodded hello, and the couple nodded back before crossing the street. In a serious of complicated, yet easy to understand gestures, they explained that they couldn’t let their baby see ice cream that wasn’t hers.
Kenny sat and he ate and he watched the cars go by: old and new, small and big, noisy and quiet. His favorites were the ones that would go too fast down the road and scrape their bottoms on the surprising speed bump.
Kenny sat, and twisted, and turned, and licked until there was no more ice cream left in the cone and finally no more cone. Then, he sucked the webbing between his thumb and the rest of his hand for the last trace of sticky green goo.