Mr. Love, my high school counselor, gave me a test of some sort and said I had no aptitude for learning, that I should drop out and join the Army. I dropped out but didn’t join the Army. Instead I got a job at Sage’s Market in the ice cream stand. After a week I discovered I had an aptitude for making scoops of ice cream big and thick for folks I liked, and big and hollow for those who didn’t seem quite right. Mr. Love appeared one day, nodded his approval of my apron and paper hat, and ordered a double dip of peppermint stick. His eyes lit up when he saw the big waffle cone I made for him. And mine lit up when he gave it a good lick and the big scoop collapsed. Turned out my success at making hollow scoops made me think I might be smart enough to go to college. I was right. A lot of people I met there proved to be big old hollow scoops of ice cream.

big billowing clouds
drift out of one nothingness
into another

Bio: Dan Gilmore