FIXING THE ICE HOUSE

This fine afternoon I was eating leftover sushi on my front porch while my roommate and her girl read books. We were all startled when a brightly dressed hobo with a walking stick hollered at us: "Can I borrow a dollar?" 

He seemed annoyed when my roommate and I told him we didn't have any money, and he felt he needed to justify his request. "My debit card stopped working." Disdainfully he added, "You really need to fix that ice house," in reference to the old igloo-like chiminea in our yard. 

Our ice house is just fine, thank you.