Far out to sea there is nothing but sky. And water of course. And air, air gets everywhere. And some fluffy little clouds minding their own business. Darkness hangs round, waiting for the sun to come and kick its ass back to where it came.

Nothing moves but the air (see paragraph 1 above). It’s looking for something. It begins to move, slow at first then faster, searching for something, someone. Mixed in with the air are short sounds – laughter, shouting, sounds of pleasure. Cries of anguish and loss. All sounds from many emotions, bouncing around on the moving, swirling air. Sometimes clear and easy to hear, other times drifting away into the distance. Just snatches of sounds.

The air and the sounds move faster, rushing in all directions. Still searching. In the distance a dark blur begins to show on the horizon. In a great rush the air draws itself and the sounds with it, together turning towards the smear in the distance, almost as if it had its own conscious. Faster it moves seeming to draw more energy and speed from within itself. The voices and the sounds getting louder and clearer all the time. More frequent. Swirling around, mixing themselves up. Snippets of many conversations mixed together, on their own making sense but cut and mixed like this seeming to be nonsense, just a cacophony of noise.

Still faster they rush and the dark line on the horizon becomes taller, wider. It forms a great  land mass. A huge cliff rising hundreds of feet into the sky and stretching both left and right as far as the eye can see, seeming so tall that it almost touches the stars rises from the swirling, destructive mess of the sea. The face of the cliff is bent and battered from the wind and the massive waves that crash and smash against its foot as if they are desperately trying beat the cliff into submission, trying to prove their dominance over the immovable land.

Somehow, as the air and the noise reaches the land at such great speed it doesn’t break. It seems to gather itself together, able to go still faster. It smashes into the face of  the cliff and turns upwards rising like a great thermal. Faster and faster it moves, determined to reach the top of this monstrous cliff, resolute that the thing it is looking for is there, right at the top. More noise, more voices, swirling and mixing together. Bending and mashing. Upwards, always rushing, screaming upwards.

After what seems forever, the top of the cliff is in sight. Closer to the top the wind and the noise rushes and stretches. Then, there is a little movement only slightly. There! The wind focuses on it reaching out towards it. As it finally reaches the top and smashes itself over the edge ready to destroy the object of its search, the thing it has been looking for it breaks over the edge in a final massive rush and boom of noise and energy…

…and dissipates into nothing. Suddenly there is silence. No movement.

A man stands on the edge of the cliff. Looking out towards the sea where the wind and noise came from. To his right is a younger boy. As the noise and sound disappears the boy reaches up and slides his left hand in the mans right for a little reassurance. The man gives it a gentle squeeze and just stands as if waiting for something.

You run out of ice-cream? Everybody loves ice-cream and lets face it with over 100 million different flavours around the world (this fact may not necessarily be true) you’d have to be either a moron or dead to hate it. Eat it when you’re walking, on a picnic with friends or alone. When you’re happy, sad, hungry or you can probably even tuck a little more away when you’re full to the top! On a sunny day or even when its freezing cold. We can always find an excuse for some ice cream.

But, have you ever wondered what time it is when you’ve run out of ice cream?

What time is it when you've run out of ice cream?