In his hurriedness to get off to work, I noticed Kev took the time to throw away my used coffee filter hanging off the side of the Chemex. Meanwhile, I sat at the dining room table, drinking the cup of coffee that filter had produced. It was a rare glimpse. I’m usually the one in the kitchen or on the floor corralling the babe. Thank you, I said. He said you’re welcome like it was no big deal, like he does it all the time. I often throw it away, he said. I paused, took another sip, and tried to remember the last time I threw it away. Thank you, I said again. Read more
