This morning's prompt is 'ice cream', and I drew a cone.

Ugh, looks like someone smashed their thumbnail!

***

"Ice cream," Carol said, pointing with her free hand. She could get around better and better on one leg and a crutch, but Brenda and the rest dreamed of scavenging a medical supply warehouse.

"Now I want..." Brenda started to say, looking up at the sign for the ice cream parlor, but stopped as they heard sounds, faint moans and the dragging steps. And she felt... angry. So angry!

"I am sick and tired of this!"

"Brenda-" Ben said quietly.

"You, and you and especially you, shut up!!!!", that last at Ben of course. She walked up to the front door and met them, greeted them most kindly.

"There you go," she said, or similar, as she swung, hacked or plunged the working end of the crowbar and filled in the doorway. The crowbar got caught and she switched up to her machete without loosing a beat.

At last the work was done and the rage was spent and she said. "That was stupid. How many?"

Tom had been counting. "Thirteen or fourteen, I think."

"Sixteen," Ben corrected, and pulled out a rag, wet it and helped Brenda clean up. He leaned his forehead against hers and asked, "Better now?"

"Not even remotely, but I will be."

BP: 143/73/78, sugar: 141