Excerpt:

Warmth radiated from a heater in the side of a wall by a cheap fast food store. The air smelled heavily of greasy French-fries and sticky ice cream cones. Her mother had told her the ice cream was made of diatoms; small silicon capsules produced in the surface waters and picked up off the ocean floor among fish fecal pellets. She had seemed to find it a plus that the diatoms made the ice cream more creamy and light, and since the small silicate cases pass through human digestive systems there were also fewer calories.
Her father licked the oozing white cream off a papery cone. "Are you sure you don't want one?" He juggled the cone riffling through his paper work.