Life is like ice, may it melt in peace.

Made that expression up today, maybe it's been muttered by others, but for the moment, I own it.

It all started today when I dropped a cube of ice down between my stove and cabinet. Most rational men would just say "fuck" and move on, not me, I had to rescue it.

So I got down on my hands and knees and rescued that ice cube from an inglamorous death on the floor, to one up in my sink. And it got me to thinking, do ice cubes have a soul?

Do they scream out like lobsters going into the pot when they finally transform into water?

I don't know, but thank god for ice, I am their friend...