Shoto

The barista puts down my iced tea. I take the straw, twist it between my fingers. > > There is a moment of silence between the clattering of glasses. > > "...They changed the brand of tea." > > I say it slowly, without looking at you. It's just a thought out loud. > > I take a sip. Break. > > "It's more bitter than before." > > I put the glass down. Condensation does not form, ice does not move. > > "...There are fewer people tonight."