There’s an ice cream truck that goes around my neighborhood, which plays the usual simple music, but then the music pauses and a woman’s voice says “Hello?” before the music starts up again. I find it a little creepy, and when I mentioned it to a friend, he suggested the truck might be haunted.
She only wanted some ice cream. That wasn’t too much to ask, after a long, hot day, where her work’s AC had broken, and the bus ride had been extra long, and packed full of sweaty passengers.
“Hello?”she’d yelled, waving her arms, but the truck had pulled away, still playing that syrupy music.
Jogging after it, she yelled again. She was going to have a popsicle, dang it! She deserved one. Quickly, she scrambled past a hedge, and through a garden bed, clambered over a low fence, and jogged toward the road.
Her foot slipped on some loose gravel, and she fell, arms windmilling.
The music stopped suddenly, and the world went black.
And then, things got a little vague for a time. The next she knew, the music swelled in her ears, and she felt… strange. An empty, echoing feeling in her stomach. She must have hit her head or something, she thought.
The music paused, and she called out, “hello?”