"Gah, it's cold!" Emma cried out as she stuck out her tongue, wiggling it dramatically in the air-conditioned chill of the mall's food court. "Brain freeze!"
'Ice cream is cold,' Arthur thought blankly as he looked at her, not understanding why she reacted with such theatrical dismay to one of the fundamental properties of frozen dairy. It was like being surprised that gravity made things fall downward or that breathing was generally necessary for continued existence.
The shopping mall around them buzzed with weekend activity. Teenagers clustered around phone shops, harried parents dragged reluctant children from store to store, and a janitor was having what appeared to be a deeply philosophical moment while contemplating a particularly stubborn piece of gum on the floor.
Emma's eyes narrowed as she caught Arthur's blank look. Her spoon hovered halfway to her mouth, a small mountain of mint chocolate chip balanced precariously on its edge.
