A.M.

Come up set your foot on that cool stool there, tread softly. Witness the heated circular discourse of tempered metal. Derange the little kettle whistle amid thermodynamic ruminations. Cold tin: plucked, roasted, crushed, pulverized beanstore: scoop, scoop, scoop: frosty steam collected within glass walls: French press. Hydrogen and oxygen compounds tumble over stainless steel lips to spitspotspatterplash! into a dreamy creamy nutty froth. Escapees of the foam flecked, pyrazines and thiazoles jostle and hustle the gaseous stairway of atmosphere to caress aromatically the nezepithelium. Sediment settled and the issue pressed, decanted. Mug bliss in its fulfillment as conveyance of almost holy apertif. Time for the morning congressional. Go, tread quickly, and leave in your wake a ringstained napkin and sugared treat crumbs.

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