Colourful gelato fills the stone cold freezer as the shops gates are finally open. Bundles of joyous people fill the inclosed space and the shops atmosphere becomes something of an erratic nonsense. I stand polite and inviting, capturing the eyes of delighted little children as their gaze falls upon the heavenly treats lying before them. An unintentional smile escapes across my face. The sun flickers against the freshly clean window as I spot the crowd of people smothering the lakefront. People of all shapes and sizes soaking up the fierce rays of the intense New Zealand sun. I am snapped back into reality by the demanding customers over crowding the diminutive shop. Cones, paddles and gelato are flown around  like an untimely era, everyone rushing to satisfy their craving pallets for the refreshing touch of gelato on this hot summer’s day. The end of my shift comes round faster than a melting ice cream. As the retro clock hanging on the wall hits 6pm, the shop takes its only moment of tranquility it will see for the good part of the day. I slip out the back door, knowing very well I will be back tomorrow to do it all again.

I take a deep, hollowing sigh. Boredom fulfils my body like a running bath. I can hear my own breath escaping my body through the deafening silence that fills the small, inquisitive shop. The gelato still filled to the brim in their individual capsules, placed cleanly in the freezer. My eyes become dazed upon the untouched treats lying before me. The frosty air of the outside breeze sneakily enters through the shops front doors, sending a sharp shiver down my spine. I see mysterious clouds covering the length of the visible sky as the town becomes noticeably dark. No one is around. The shops interior is lonely. I’m lonely. There are no eyes to be met, ice creams to be scooped or demands to be made.The waves of the lake capture my attention, as just like the shop, the lakefront becomes something of an abandoned settlement. The mood is gloomy as the season of winter makes itself at home. I watch the retro clock hanging on the wall as its little hand makes a ticking sound that could almost put me to sleep. They say clock watching only slows down time, but with no demanding customers around, I am unable to snap back into reality. As my shift comes to end, Im left wondering with uncertainty…when will I next see this place again?

Meg Breen