It was memories like those that framed his life. Without them it was like time was passing by without meaning. there had been years he had lost and couldn't remember due to such frameless epochs.

A few years after high school once the old friends had drifted off and Max wasn't talking to anyone in any intimate manner. That's when he began getting really into movies and smoking a lot of weed.

At the time his hobbies seemed to actually be fun. It was only looking back in retrospect that he began wondering, 'what had i been doing during those years? where did they go?'

That's why Max tried to get out of the apartment, out of his town on his offdays. It would help give meaning to his time. He hoped that he would be able to look back at these little trips, modest as they were. He didn't want to look back and not remember anything. Or having just a hazy recollection of having spent all his free time in a dark room watching TV and playing video games.

Max knew what he would order. He would finally taste that mocha. This time he wouldn't spill.