Published by

K Mark Schofer

Krick’s Korner isn’t an ice cream shop, but rather a cozy neighborhood cafe in Reading, PA. It used to be an ice cream store only. I remember going there with my parents and remembering the smell of the Pizza shop (Ronnies) from right around the corner. I remember that the most.

My Dad wore a white t-shirt and long pants my mom a jumper. We wore our bathing suits.

The ice cream was lined up in buckets behind a smudged glass counter. Lightning bugs hung in the air, and you could hear the faint roar of the highway that led out of Reading. I always wanted to be on that road or at the pizza shop next door.

My family were meticulous and calculating with their ice cream orders. They all had their favorites. I tried different flavors each time and I probably ordered black cherry the most. I was not an ice cream kind of kid. By all means a cone, instead of a cup.

I wanted to watch the lightning bugs and be headed on that road out of town.

Hello,

I’m Mark

His friends observe Mark seems wired a little differently. Perhaps it’s more likely that noticing little things often missed by others is a relic of a quieter, simpler time. He has a way with words, which he refuses to let be hindered by sub-par typing skills. People have great stories to tell if you sit and listen.

A belief dear to Mark is that there is certain beauty in the world. You simply have to look for it.