A Single Revolution
I walked from the living room into the kitchen, keeping my milk bottle firmly balanced against my torso. Upon the counter sat a manual coffee grinder constructed of polished timber and dark cast iron. Three seconds of silent observation. I set my bottle down exactly two inches beside its wooden base. Reaching forward, I closed my fingers around the turned-wood knob of the curved metal crank. Controlled clockwise pressure applied. Click. The internal steel burrs engaged with a heavy, satisfying mechanical grind. I guided the lever through one precise three-hundred-and-sixty-degree sweep until it returned to its original apex. The tension remained smooth throughout.

