A Morning Bean

I waddled up to the kitchen counter where the tall glass jar of whole coffee beans stood by the grinder. Resting on the smooth butcher block was a single stray dark bean, roasted to an oily sheen. I leaned my belly forward and gave it a quiet nudge with my flipper. It spun lazily across the pale wood grain, clicking softly against the ceramic base of an empty white mug. A deep, toasty scent puffed up into the crisp morning quiet, and I rested right there against the solid wood, enjoying the calm start to the day.