Felicia was just sipping on her milkshake when it hit her.
No outside force. No violent impact. But the cold of the milkshake, a delicious treat on the hottest of days, was now out for revenge.
The pain started just above her palate. Two minutes of pulling that cold, chocolatey drink into her throat had done it. Felicia had known, as she sucked, that she should stop and take a break, but the sweltering heat made her want to keep drinking and drinking this blessedly cool drink. And she didn’t want it to warm up on her – a warm milkshake is a friend to nobody.
Now she was paying for her zeal. The stabbing feeling spread up behind her nose and into her eyes, crippling her like a knife jammed up into the brain. She wanted to collapse, roll on the ground, curse the world and all in it.
Instead, Felicia reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose, as she had seen so many others do. It offered mild relief, if only for the discomfort it caused in the bridge of her nose. But mild relief was still relief, and she let a long, slow, “Fuuuuuuuck.”
Slowly the pain of the cold eased up, and Felicia relaxed, letting go of her nose. The woman on the other side of the counter, the one who was so expertly making milkshake after milkshake, smiled at her, knowing what had happened. She had seen so many in the past few hours, and every time she grinned. Schadenfreude was part of her business.
Felicia smiled back, and with the end of her pain, she leaned forward and started on her milkshake again, readying herself for another bout of ice cream headache.