The Pine Cone

by The Bard of New Mexico

silverdolphin12@hotmail.com

Gerry pushed back her long brown hair in hopes that she would see something different from what was actually there. It didn't help. It was still a combo arts and crafts store/ice cream parlor.

A blonde middle-age woman greeted Gerry. “What can I help you find? Maybe you need glue, paint, or bells?”

“No. I'm just looking for a pine cone.”

The lady flashed Gerry a big smile. “Follow me.” She led Gerry past hot glue guns, plastic holly, and faux cardinal birds that were so life-like that Gerry hoped they weren't actually taxidermy. They passed watercolors, pastels, charcoal, and acrylic paints until they came to the ice cream parlor.

“I think you mis-heard me.”

“Didn't you say you wanted a pine cone?”

“Yes --”

“We sell them here,” the lady interrupted. “It's a cone of chocolate-marshmallow ice cream dipped in pine nuts.”

“Well.... I guess you sold me on one, although I just wanted a pine cone for my Christmas wreath.” As Gerry ate her ice cream, she noticed the names of the other flavors, like a rainbow sherbet named Paint, a sticky pink bubblegum called Glue, and a vanilla topped with metallic sprinkles called Bells.

Gerry chuckled. “You sneaky devil! People come in wanting arts and crafts supplies and you lead 'em to the ice cream!”

The woman smiled. “It worked, didn't it? I sold ice cream in the middle of winter!”