Latte Universe part II


Black with an inch of latte consumed, leaving a few hundred thousand loose bubble flakes clinging desperately to the dry edges.

Within the mugs’ crater exists a whole universe of activity. A ring of foam surrounds pools of brown coffee shades fusing with milk, bubbles and water. Looking into the mug, the deceptively stationary surface is as alive as we are. Slowly swirling and churning, Gravity is pulling everything towards the surface. Tidal currents from a long absent spoon stir remains active on a microscopic scale. Its temperature cools whilst below the surface it is very much alive. Its living, whether I drink it or not. It’s got its own life to be getting on with – albeit without conscious thought. Like a God I can choose to leave it….

I’m sorry. I did not leave it. My focus was pulled away by a wretched email and during the course of responding, I took a sip from the mug. I have destroyed 3 or 4 milky galaxies and possibly several thousand planet bubbles. I have off set the tidal currents and sent pools of milk and water colliding into chaos and caused devastation to the wall of foam. From the moment my mug made contact with the desk, I realised what I’d done. I am shocked at myself. Saddened and empty of thought for everything in my real world as my attention once again shifts into the growing blackness of my cooled latte world. Can I…

No! Not again! Another distraction of office conversation led to another gulp of destruction. Now less than half full, what have I done? The wall of protective foam is all but gone from my nearest edge. Exposing the pure and innocent bubble and tiny coffee granule pools to the evil edge of recycled black plastic. The steam has gone, the surface is looking stark and lifeless. The calm appearance surely must be masking the chaos of activity underneath. Current fighting for survival, milk mixed beyond recognition into a murky mess. Where once sat floods of colour and life now holds barely a breath of either. I am guilty of this. What started as a cherished container of possibility has all but vanished. What am I to do? What is the next responsible action to take? I feel I should take action to end any further suffering. I wouldn’t let a run down rabbit half alive suffer, how can I leave a whole world of coffee in chaos? I care. I care so much. But can I destroy what I care about to end self guilt and eternal disarray and torment? If I can, I must, no matter how much it hurts to do so, there is no other humane alternative.

But I can’t.

Not now – its ten past one and I must first have lunch.


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