Good Morning, by Don Tassone

He stopped in every morning on his way to work. He preferred black coffee. But she made the fancy coffees there. So he always ordered a triple, venti, soy, no-foam latte.

He loved to watch her move. She moved with the confidence of an athlete and the grace of an angel.

Confidence and grace. Two things he lacked.

Then one morning, he didn’t see her. He almost left but decided to grab a black coffee. He stepped up to the counter, and there she was.

She smiled. “A triple, venti, soy, no-foam latte?”

He smiled, saying, “Good morning.”


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