Coffee that is so strung it sends you back in time mentally prepared to work the espresso machine
Cal wandered into the kitchen, fighting his way through the morning haze. There on the counter, where he had left it the previous evening, was the container of special coffee beans. He sighed as he looked at the espresso machine. Its myriad of controls, dials, and indicators was at once impressive and frightening, too much to handle so early in the morning. He exhaled and set to the task of making coffee.
Something gripped him, a discontinuity of slurping and whooshing noises that left him sipping a freshly pressed cup of coffee. His heart raced and he blinked, fully awake. Though the coffee container was still sealed, he was alert and capable of working the complexities of the espresso machine.
Expertly he removed the pressure vessel and placed it under the grinder’s exit port. He opened the coffee container and scooped the correct amount of beans into the grinder, which whirred and crewed them up into a fine powder. This was deposited into the pressure vessel. He tamped the powder down, then latched the vessel to the espresso machine. Each of the dials indicated perfection: pressure, temperature, desired quantity and color … things which on normal mornings were too much, too much to bear.
He pulled the lever and the machine whooshed as it compressed superheated water though the fine powder, dripping a frothy coffee into his favorite cup. He tasted the coffee’s perfection, sipped, and swallowed it. Mmmm!
Bam, he was hit with the same discontinuity of slurping and whooshing. This time it was different than before: he experienced the coffee-making process in reverse. What the hell? The experience gripped him solidly; he could not shake the feeling that he had been here before. He was left with the sealed coffee container. Heat racing and senses tuned, he repeated the process perfectly. He pulled the lever and the machine whooshed as it compressed superheated water though the fine powder, dripping a frothy coffee into his favorite cup. He tasted the coffee’s perfection, sipped, and swallowed it. Mmmm!
Bam, the whooshing discontinuity hit him, but yet again differently. The coffee container was open and his coffee cup was empty. Espresso was a memory. Brow furrowed, he sealed the container and cleaned up from the coffee-making process.With accelerated synapses he ruminated. He had made the coffee, drank it, and experienced a caffeine rush like no other: It had hit him so hard, it had accelerated his thinking so much, that he was capable of working the complexities of the espresso machine before even taking the first sip. The caffeine had sent him back in time to his pre-Columbian state so he could make the espresso he hadn’t had yet.