"do you want room for milk?" asked the barista, regarding the level of water rising around the bag of earl grey.
this, you consider, a trivial attitude towards something of great importance.
"yes, please" you reply with equal nonchalance.
the barista interprets your reply as uncaring. this is someone, after all, whose trade is hot drink, of which milk plays a vital part.
at the milk and sugar kiosk, your thoughts are drawn out by the stream of white milk. then drawn even further by your neighbor's black coffee as it swirls in revolt against the cream being poured unscrupulously.
1 comment:
Love.
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