Wednesday, September 5th, 2012

A lone figure stumbles into the dining room, feeling his way through the darkness toward the far corner of the room to the coffee shrine. Hooking a finger through the handle of the electric kettle, he shuffles across the room to the kitchen sink, opens the faucet and stands waiting with a finger hanging in the steam of water, jerking it away when it’s too hot to stand. He fills the kettle.

Is it still a kettle if it’s made of plastic? he wonders. It’s the first coherent thought of the day to pass through his brain.

The kettle fits on a base that connects it to the electric cord plugged into the wall socket. The water begins to pop and hiss as the kettle warms up.

He flips through the stack of paper filters, trying to get hold of just one. How can this possibly be as hard as it is? he wonders. How can the top filter always be stuck to the one underneath? He does a lot of wondering first thing in the morning.

Holding a filter, he uses his free hand to scoop coffee beans into the grinder. He counts one, two, three, four scoops of beans. There used to be a reason to measure out exactly four scoops, but now it’s just muscle memory. He shuffles back to the kitchen to set the filter and the grinder on the counter top.

He dozes off while washing out the carafe and doesn’t wake up until he’s drying it off with a dish towel. Dirty or clean? he wonders, then decides that, just this one time, it doesn’t matter so much.

Grinding the coffee wakes him up. It’s more physical activity than he really wants to do at this early hour, but as much as he’d rather be flat on his back in bed, he wants a hot pot o’ joe even more. The water in the kettle comes to a boil just as he finishes grinding the last of the beans. He dumps the grinds into the paper filter that somebody – did he do that? – has already loaded into the drip cone on top of the carafe, fetches the kettle from the coffee shrine, and begins to pour piping hot water through the cone. From below he can hear the satisfying drip, drip, dribble as the aroma of life itself fills the room.

ritual | 6:18 am CST
Category: coffee, daily drivel, food & drink, play, story time
Comments Off on ritual

Comments are closed.