An ice-cream story

Rose picked the ice-cream tub and seated herself in front of the TV. Lounged in the comfort of the lazy-boy, she thumbed the remote in excitement as she turned the channel on her favorite soap opera.

A new spin on Dracula, the man was more horrifying and romantic than the vampire, with his skewed sense of justice and grand dreams.

"Don't we all have grand dreams?" she mused.

She ate one more spoonful of heavenly tasting ice-cream and wondered who Dochia would end with. Would she wind up with the tall, raven-haired Niklaus? Or would the burly Scot with as much fire in his hair as in his temper win her heart eventually?

As the credits played she warmed up at the atmosphere of the Red Rose Tavern. Oh, the gossip there was the 15th century version of Friends. She forgot how many tubs of ice-cream she has downed as she rooted for one friend or another.

The spoon in the ice-cream jar froze when a green with jealousy Miklos spied on Dochia and Niklaus as they kissed, vowing to destroy them.

It then moved rhythmically as Rose ladled more ice-cream watching the blood and gore spilled when the Dragon avenged his father’s death.

Oh and here is Stan, his face fully covered because of a disfigurement, the court gossiped. Did everyone notice how well his eyes resembled Dochia's? 

More soothing ice-cream made it to her mouth as she pondered about Dochia's life in a man's world. Save for the sword it wasn't much different from hers.

"I can't continue down this path." she huffed as she struggled to stand because of the extra pounds she piled up. She threw the ice-cream tub in the trash and pulled her tennis shoes. 

The 21st century had also the running trails.