Updated: Nov 23, 2019
I’ll always remember that day. I was back in Bucharest, after spending six months in Spain with a university scholarship. Happiness didn’t seem easy to achieve back then, especially in the morning, before long, tiring courses, that I knew would absorbe every ounce of my energy. It didn’t seem easy to turn things around and feel a shot of happiness all of a sudden, like small kids do when they get candy or a new toy. At least this is what I thought. “I’m an adult now and, sadly, I don´t get excited about small things anymore“. Until I saw it. I jumped and skipped, laughed and screamed of joy in public, like a carefree kid.
I went into the shop with a couple of classmates. We were craving something sweet and we’d have been satisfied with some random chocolate cookies. Just in case, I took a look at the ice-cream refrigerator and I couldn't believe my luck. There it was: the ice-cream I’d eaten when I was 7 years old, after begging my sister to buy it for me in spite of the price.
It took me back to that day. My sister had dragged me all though town to run errands because she couldn’t leave me home alone, hidden under a blanket and imagining all sorts of monsters.
After a long walk in a torrid summer day, I thought I was entitled to a compensation. So I begged and whipped and expressed my desire so passionately, that my sister couldn’t bare me anymore and bought it: MARS ICE-CREAM.
I’d make it a statue if I had any sculpture abilities. It’s like eating Mars chocolate in the laziest way, skipping the effort of chewing, using your tongue, your teeth, your face muscles. Mars ice-cream, with its paradoxical explosion of warm, autumnal flavors of caramel and chocolate, wrapped in a refreshing bar that chills your senses, melts in your mouth and you can’t help closing your eyes to enjoy it.
Ana Maria Gheba