Crushed Ice

Crushed ice

It’s dark, I open the fridge door and there it is glistening in the light.

A full beaker, crushed ice crystals of all shapes and sizes looking back at me.

This isn’t for an exotic cocktail, not for a delicious Mojito with the best of rum, fresh lime juice, mint leaves and sparkling soda water.

No, this is our saviour, this beaker of crushed ice, this will get us through this long night, it will carry us through till morning, it will take us peacefully to the next day.

I just need small pieces but these pieces in the beaker want to stay together.

The spoon I’m using to search for small pieces is just too awkward, the rummaging is making too much noise and causing its own problems.

A small plastic cup is the answer. Grab the pieces from the beaker without discrimination and let’s break them up quietly in the forgiving plastic cup.

This is working, I now have small pieces and we can get through this long night together, me, him and the crushed ice.

Small bits of crushed ice on the spoon, into the grateful mouth, sucking relief from these magical crystals as they gradually turn into water and relieve this awful thirst.

The hand gesture, more crystals on the spoon and into the grateful mouth.

I watch him, this powerful man that I adore, this superstar sucking on these crystals, extracting huge relief.

I watch, another spoonful is ready of this wonderful, magical crushed ice that is our saviour. I make sure the pieces aren’t too big for that grateful mouth.

Another spoonful of small crystals into the mouth of this giant of a man, more sucking, more relief.

Are you alright pops, are you doing ok?

I hold his hand and rub his head and he closes his eyes and finds some peace from these magical crystals for another small while at least.

We’ll make it through this night, me, my dad and the crushed ice.

Greg Canty 

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2 Responses to “Crushed Ice”

  1. Transilient Coaching Says:

    Lovely piece Greg, thank you.

    Kind regards, Barbara

    >

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