It's morning.
A Mexican man enters Que Tal, a local coffee shop.
His formal raincoat is buttoned to above his chest.
He orders at the counter.
He puts a tall glass of café latte in the middle of a small table.
There's a cap of white cream over the light chocolate colored coffee.
He takes out two tiny cell phones from under his overcoat.
One is bright silver. One is black.
He opens the lids on both.
He places them on the table - one to the front and side of the glass latte.
He leaves the table to go back to the counter:
The coffee, the silver and black phones form an equilateral triangle.
The silence, the isolation and collaboration of each with one another.
The slanted, post-rain light of the morning.
As with a great still life, on such occasions
I am overwhelmed by such startling, beauty.
Stephen Vincent
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