A Daughter’s Revenge
Milky white vanilla, pale green pistachio, blush pink rose water, deep purple blackberry, and a rich chocolate ice cream all lined up in a neat row behind the glass.
I love the sweet and tart taste of late summer blackberries. The best berries, color as deep as a moonless midnight, nestle themselves deeply in the thicket. The thorns growing inward so your hand glides with ease towards the prize, only to be ensnared in the trap once you have reached the treasure. The thorns grabbing hold of you and immediately satiating its taste for your blood. Sharp and deeply planted the thorns still sting and burn even after you pull them from your skin. Even in the dead of summer, my hair tied tightly in
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