“He goes for the tulip,” the barista jokes, as I reach for one of the two Mochas he put on the counter at the same time.
I had great pause before picking it up, alternating between the tulip and the other option, which was indiscernible.
“Well yeah,” I respond. “It looks like it’s straight from MarioWorld.”
“That it is,” the barista says. “It will give you the ability to spit fireballs.”
I carefully carry the warmed beverage back to my table, sipping the warm, foamy contents of the cup after sitting.
My thumb slips into the silver slip of my laptop that opens the cover like a case. A few seconds staring at that spinning beachball, a couple clicks, and I’m linked to an entire world of knowledge and communication.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life, and it’s time to take control of that instead of letting things happen as they will.