On my way to give a talk the other night, I stopped at Häagen-Dazs to get some ice cream. As I was leaving, I saw this on the Pearl Street Mall’s cobbestones:
Was it a child who lost their scoop, and cried? Or was it an adult, unhappy but perhaps holding the tears back? Or just someone who lost it, shrugged, and went on home to get out of the chilling drizzle that evening? Maybe it was someone at my talk.
I’ll never know. But it seems like there’s a story here.
