She loved them; their smell, the warmth of the cup, the caffeine rush that would follow. She ordered one and sat out in the beautiful sunshine on the campus of the University of Washington. She held the latte with both hands like it was a gold bar. Smelling it made her relax. She felt so comfortable and at ease. She took a sip. Oh, that was good. Just like she’d remembered. She hadn’t had one in a month. Now they had lattes again at the bookstore. Well, for faculty like her. Not just anyone could get one of these lattes. She believed in equal treatment for the masses, but had to admit that if lattes were in short supply, she was glad to be one of the few who could get them. The first week or two of the Crisis had been a little dicey with the power outages, the empty shelves, and the crime. She had pretty much stayed in her little house by the campus in Seattle when all the crime was happening. She couldn’t blame people for taking things. They were poor and had been oppressed by the system for generations.
