The sheer horror, the absolute and chilling terror. To be an Ice Cream Sandwich, with the ability to see and perceive reality as it shapes, only to realize this truth at this exact moment: just as the sun passes in the evening, I am faced with but two inevitabilities. Melt, or be eaten. Two transformation possibilities, first from solid to liquid, to be trampled upon by the feet of unworthy creatures and picked upon by birds and insects. The second, to be consumed for the pure joy of an ape, with no nutritional benefit to his body, only the shortening of its own measured life. Alas, with a breath of the cool evening breeze, I move on. Waiting for the inevitable.
