Mr Frosty



It’s not the same anymore. It never is they say.  Even after all of this time.  After Tracy and Martin and the police and the neighbors and the questions and the questions and the questions, I still live here.

“An ice cream truck?”  They each asked me at one time or another during the investigation.  Like it is something I would make up.

“Yes, a Mister Frosty truck.”

I heard how it sounded.  I understood.  I got it.  And I even understood when they brought in the dog team and started digging in my garden and back yard.  I even offered to help search the nearby woods but the police said it was better I just stayed away.

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)