“Why are you drinking your latte so slowly?” She asked. “Usually you just gulp them down.”
He pushed the cup across the table. It was almost empty and quivering near the dregs was an especially delicate leaf pattern, almost sepia in color, that the barrista had fashioned from the foam of the latte. By drinking carefully he had preserved the pattern even as he sipped the espresso and milk out from under it.
“We should all do what we can to preserve beauty in the world,” he said.