*For my babygirl xx*
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It’s Friday: date night for me and Aurelia. We went to see a film at the cinema—a new sci-fi horror about a missing spaceship that’s reappeared twenty-five years after falling into a black hole, I quite liked it, Aurelia didn’t—and now we’ve come to *Momma’s Milkshakes*, an ice-cream parlour. I’d have rather gone somewhere more… classy, but Aurelia insisted. And as usual, Aurelia always gets her way. *Momma’s* is a 50s-style diner, except everything’s pink, and I mean everything. The walls, the floors, the counter, the leather booths, hell, even the fucking sugar packets and salt and pepper shakers are pink. Feels like it’s been designed by a nine-year-old girl.
The menu is on a screen behind the counter, listing dozens of different flavours of ice creams and milkshakes. You’ve got your normal stuff, your strawberry and chocolate and the like, but then you’ve also got something called *SPACEROCK*… what the fuck kinda flavour is that?
‘So,’ I say, ‘what do you want?’
Aurelia doesn’t reply. I glance down. She’s staring at her phone, lost in a world of cute animal pictures and stupid memes.
‘*Aurelia*.’