It took the young adult a sip of a hot beverage to the time when he lacked the confidence to ask out his high school crush, and he now does so through his first experience with a cinnamon-scented Dirty Latte.
I am at my favourite spot in a Botanical Garden that has birthed a new form of writing, writing in the present as is without thought, only ink, intention and emotion.
The green plastic bench lies between an immense tree and bush. I don't know what type of tree it is, but another one like it lies in front and is peacefully rotting in the chaotic scene of a mountain bike hurdling down the slope with three slender dogs racing it paired with a minefield of dog poop. I, unfortunately, stepped in, and it dove into my left black Le Coq Sportif as an Olympic diver would execute a reverse four and a half-somersault pike positioned dive.
I was not mad but livid, and the rules clearly state that "No Dogs Beyond This Point" do people listen? Nope, they want to do whatever suits them. I had bought seven rusks and three hundred and fifty millilitres of a Dirty Chai last time I had the two hundred and fifty millilitres of Chai Latte.
What is the difference? A Dirty Chai has expresso in it, like the psychedelic-infused ideology my crush possesses, with whom I still haven't officially "shot my shot" yet. I play it cool like the raisins in the muesli rusk that land on my tastebuds. I slow down and deepen my voice like the sweetness of a Chai Latte infecting the Ouma buttermilk rusk while savouring the perfect picnic date I want to take her out on.
I envision we would continue our controversial, conspiratorial, intellectual, weird, insightful and damn good fun discussions and arguments about whether the moon is a mother-ship from another galaxy. Here to examine the beginning and demise of man for two hours and still not conclude the conversation.
I want to hear her voice when I zone out of work mode and listen to her insane ideas of an ideal world and lifestyle, and her quirkiness usually peeks at this moment. I want to see her smile turn to laughter as it deteriorates my anxiety, like the warm hundred percent compostable and biodegradable Enviro Cup that hosts the cinnamon scent and taste of the Dirty Latte. Her soul and presence feel the same close to mine.