There was a man at the gas station. There were several, but this one fit a mold. He got out of his rusty teal pickup and went inside, limping. He was wearing a blue t-shirt. It was greasy with hard labor and had a full pocket over the left breast. His hair was shaggy and his beard was cut from the same mold. He wore dust like it was his friend. He came out and yanked a bag of ice out of the outdoor freezer. He hauled it to his truck, opened the tail and smacked it against the truck bed four or five times. After securing his ice, for who knows what purpose, he started unwrapping something. It was a chocolate ice cream bar. He threw away the wrapper and drove off in his truck with his seperated ice bag and his ice cream.