(no subject)
Daniel had decided yesterday afternoon, when reading a passage that involved ice cream sundaes, that he had to have ice cream. Delirium served it every once in a while, but she always served off-the-wall flavors that were sometimes good, but were often not worth contemplating. But what Daniel wanted was a pure, rich, vanilla ice cream.
The previous evening, he'd gathered together the ingredients, mixed them together, and put them in the refrigerator to cool. Now, he grabbed the ice cream churn and went outside and started working. He probably should have stayed inside, but it was nice outside and he got to see the people come and go. After a few minutes, though, he took his t-shirt off. He'd never actually made ice cream before and hadn't realized that it took actual effort.
After a while, he took a small spoon he'd grabbed from the kitchen and tested the consistency - and the taste - of the ice cream. "Almost ready," he said to himself, happily licking at the spoon. It definitely was good.
(In honor of tag someone new week, here is a sweaty, half-naked Daniel. Enjoy.)
The previous evening, he'd gathered together the ingredients, mixed them together, and put them in the refrigerator to cool. Now, he grabbed the ice cream churn and went outside and started working. He probably should have stayed inside, but it was nice outside and he got to see the people come and go. After a few minutes, though, he took his t-shirt off. He'd never actually made ice cream before and hadn't realized that it took actual effort.
After a while, he took a small spoon he'd grabbed from the kitchen and tested the consistency - and the taste - of the ice cream. "Almost ready," he said to himself, happily licking at the spoon. It definitely was good.
(In honor of tag someone new week, here is a sweaty, half-naked Daniel. Enjoy.)