One latte, no flavoring please.

This is my ritual. At the end of every semester, once the last final has been turned in, I walk to the campus coffee shop and order a plain latte.

During the semester, my usual order is a large coffee, black—a dark and bitter drink for the daily grind of my academic pursuit. Milk and espresso are reserved for celebration.

Today’s latte is my eighth, representing my final semester of undergrad. After receiving my celebratory libation, I go to the patch of grass behind the humanities building.

I sit down and let my backpack fall off my shoulder. I’m finished with the books in it.

I let the warmth of my drink and the smile of the afternoon sun soothe me.

A rich complacency sweeps over my body, and every breath I slowly take in takes me deeper into slumber and satisfaction.

Of course, there’s more work to do. But that’s for later.

In this moment, there’s nothing at all.