“Ice?”
“Huh?”
“Ice!”
Dale looked up from his beer. Why the hell would he want ice?
“Outside. Look. Ice.”
The stool screeched from under him as Dale stood up.
“But… How? It was 80° an hour ago.”
“They’ll be telling us it’s god damn climate change,” snarled the old-timer, cemented at the bar, the peak of his dirty, red cap unable to hide his disdain.
“I mean… this isn’t… normal,” Dale protested.
“Weather is weather. It’s always been. It always will. Up is up. Men and women marry. Girls wear dresses. It’s how it is.
“One word,” Dale said, “Change.”
Hey, Listen
Written as part of Friday Fictioneers, hosted as ever by the lovely Rochelle. The photo prompt is provided by Dale Rogerson. Read their words and the writing of others here!

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