There was a sad, little boy sitting all alone on the top step of the museum stairs, holding his head in his tiny, pale hands, with only tufts of red hair sticking up and blowing in the wind, and as I approached the devastated child, I noticed that, two steps in front of him, there was a melting scoop of strawberry ice cream and a crushed sugar cone, which would be reason enough for anyone to act gloomy; I sat next to him, grabbing a tissue for his quiet sniffles from my backpack, and asked the child if he wanted to go buy another ice cream with me.
He ran away.
Rozzy Mullen is an HPU English major who is very rarely concise enough to avoid exceeding a page (or in this case, word) limit.