With a swift gesture, the lid was ripped ferociously away from the coffee canister. Grinds were measured with a bent spoon, poured and spilled thoughtlessly in all the wrong places until they finally were aimed into the filter. Zooey pushed the brew button, enjoying the satisfying clicking noise that it made and watched the slow trickle of liquid bubble at the bottom of the pot. Quickly, the house filled with the rich aroma.
There was a crash heard from another room, followed by a deep thud and an audible groan. Zooey opened the kitchen cabinets only to find empty shelves where clean coffee mugs were supposed to reside. She settled instead for two small bowls which were primarily used for making creme brule.
“I smell coffee,” a voice called out from the other room. Zooey rolled her eyes, and poured a second bowl, leaving it on the counter as she returned to her perch on the green chair. A figure emerged, swathed in Smurfs bedsheets, and groped sleepily for the coffee in the kitchen.