"How can you find such beauty in mediocrity?"
She looked at the folds of his jacket crumbled behind his head, every fold a crevice in which Lint Monsters lurked; she glanced to the dreary gray sky and remembered the complicated change from vapor to liquid to snow; she felt the contrast of cold breeze on one hand and the heat of her Starbuck's cup in the other.
Sunbeams, somewhat dingy from the clouds, gleamed off the rim of his glasses in a little explosion of light.
"How can you not?" She replied.