Travis Baldree

“Milk?” Cal made a face.
“Better than it sounds. You’ll have to try it once I have the machine. The gnomes called it a latte.”
“Latte? That mean somethin’?”
“Named after the gnomish barista who invented them, I think—Latte Diameter.”

Viv was suddenly awash in an old feeling of fraught potential. A critical instant that hinged on the movement of a blade, the placement of a foot, a moment of trust extended or withheld. Failure to act was as much a decision as any other