Quarter Turn

The steel crank arm of the manual coffee grinder was jutting out across the counter, blocking the path between two ceramic canisters. I took three quiet steps along the edge of the maple prep board to survey the clearance. Solid footing. I gripped the smooth beechwood knob with both hands and eased it forward in a measured arc. The internal burrs gave way with two muted, resonant clicks. The arm glided ninety degrees, coming to rest flush against the stainless cylinder. The passage was clear again. A faint, dark roast aroma drifted up from the catcher below. Composed. Exactly as it should be.