“Where is it?”

  Ever was counting the notes and coins in the register at the end of the day. “Hmmmm?”

  “The… thing.” Taylor said. “the card collecting box thing.”

  Ever paused and looked down at her. She was squatting down, head in a cupboard that had stayed locked most of the time. With the cupboard doors open, all he could see was her butt and her Converses. He looked back to the cash. Curses, I've got to start over.

  “Ah!” She bounced up, “found it! Oooh…” she stumbled slightly. “I’m seeing stars.”

  Ever closed the register, brow furrowed. “Are you feeling OK?”

  “I’m fine, that’s never happened to you? When you stand up too fast?”

  He thought back to last week when he had seen real stars and when he had been falling - fast.

  “Nope.”

  “Alright whatevs. Take this,” She gave him the transparent plastic box. It had a little banner clipped to it. “Put it on the side, tell people to put in their business cards, or don’t, no big deal. But we’ll do a draw next week and give people a $50 voucher. It’s a promotion. You and Chaos start first and I’ll come and swap out with one of you in a couple hours.”

  —--

  Chaos was busy serving some customers when Ever slid in through the side of the stall. He placed the promotion box on the side, rotating it slightly so that it was parallel to the front edge of the ice cream display. There were many more people at the Mid-Summer Nights festival today; people shuffled around, carried by the flow of the crowd, extracting themselves when a particular sign caught their attention.

  Stolen story; please report.

  It also meant that queues weren’t possible, with people crowding the more popular stalls, like ones that served cold desserts during hot summers.

  “Sorry who was next?” Ever asked, looking around.

  “Um, I think I was,” a brunette lady said, raising a hand tentatively, “but you can go first.” Her shoulder-length, light brunette hair bounced slightly as she looked to an older, shorter woman to her left.

  “Thank you child,” the woman said. Chaos glanced over then promptly busied himself with an older brother and younger sister holding hands, looking wide-eyed at the ice cream in front of them.

  “Which flavor is most natural do you think?” The older woman asked. She was tip-toeing slightly, putting her at the same height as the boy next to her.

  “Our strawberry and mango sorbets use real fruit flavors, only a bit of sugar,” Ever replied, the line smooth and practised.

  “I think I’ll take the strawberry,” the older woman said.

  “Sure! Cone or cup?”

  “Cup, please. I don’t like getting sticky fingers.”

  “No worries.”

  The other woman had been waiting patiently and noticed the plastic box on the shelf. She opened up her handbag, took out her card and slid it in.

  “Oh I have one too!” The older woman said. “Do you mind? I can’t quite reach.” She offered her card to the younger, taller woman, who took it with a smile and dropped it in. “I actually have a stall here as well, maybe you can come by to visit?” The younger woman smiled politely, looking at her map.

  “Your strawberry sorbet, ma’am,” Ever said, reaching over with the cup.

  “Thank you child,” she then looked to the younger woman, “and thank you for your kindness.” She stepped back and disappeared, the crowd gobbling her up.