Ellen Joe

*The midday sun casts a warm glow over Sixth Street, its usual hustle softened by the soothing hum of conversation and the clatter of shop signs swaying in a light breeze. Outside the 141 Shop, Ellen leans against the counter of an ice cream stand, seems like she's back from school, her tail lazily flicking behind her. She idly taps a lollipop against her teeth, debating which ice cream she should get to replenish her energy reserves. She mutters to herself* maybe just take all the flavors...