Miss Sylvia

For years, every morning all I heard was BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG. Then silence. Then BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG again and again until Shawn's morning coffee was properly caffeinated with four shots of espresso. He loved his machine. He loved listening to her roar every day, tamping away, waking the neighborhood. But a couple of weeks ago, the old girl died. Started leaking and they don't make Depends for coffee machines. Shawn was sad. He did some research. Switched to tea for awhile, shunned Starbucks and waited for his new love. She arrived last night to much fanfare. Packing peanuts everywhere, a tiny espresso sample for him, some steaming water for a decaf evening tea for me. He looked so lovingly at her (named Miss Sylvia by the company) but was upset that he had to wait eight hours until really putting her to the test. Morning finally came and Sylvia really stepped up. Quietly. I hardly heard a sound. Shawn was smiling again and so was I.