He retired in March after thirty-one years at the water district. He kept the alarm set for 5:10 anyway. The grinder, the scale, the gooseneck kettle his daughter gave him at Christmas — eleven minutes, start to finish, and he spoke to no one until the first sip. His wife had learned this years ago. She waited in the other room with her phone.

By 5:40 the cup was empty and the day had nothing else scheduled in it. He made a second at nine, which was weaker, a copy. Around eleven he caught himself looking forward to tomorrow's first one. He told the neighbor he was busier than ever. He had been awake six hours by then and had done nothing but drink coffee.