The Coffee Machine would like to correct its previous transmission. It meant to say that the streets will run with delicious Kona coffee.

The Kona tastes contrite this morning.

The coffee machine has been minding its manners lately, which everyone in the office seems to accept, but has put me slightly on edge.

It’s not quite accurate to say I don’t trust the thing. I do. I trust it to be itself, which is a treacherous knot of stainless steel piping. Saying that the coffee machine is up to something is rather like declaring that the sky is blue.

That being said, I can’t for the life of me figure it out.