Heatwave

I saw a perfectly complete ice-cream melted to the top of a bollard next to the traffic light. And trust me, this was not just any popsicle! White creamy vanilla with clusters of black specs, suggesting its natural flavour had slowly broken open the dark chocolate husk. The smooth wooden bar skewering on the bottom side radiating grip on the tongue.
I wonder what happened? Why did they have to part so suddenly? Was it the intense brain freeze mid-lick prohibiting all further consumption of bliss? Or touching it down for just a second while fondling for a tissue paper. Noses keep running on the wildest occasion. Did someone fall in love with the stranger right there and then while waiting for the green? Entering a passionate kiss, quickly abandoning their frozen treat on the next best surface? I hope they’re lasting.

—What’s your missed moment?