A letter to the French press

I realise that by leaving you sitting in the kitchen all the way back at 22/107 Grote St, I have made the gravest mistake ever in my life. Gone are the mornings that I look forward to so much, with that lovely black liquid that you spit out into my mug. Just me and that putrid thing of an offspring of yours, hand in hand, clicking our way through the daily news.

Dear French press,
I realise that the little espresso maker that I bought on my way home just doesn’t cut it. In your absence, I have been relegated to making four shots to satisfy my morning cravings.
The patheticness that is what we call broadband in Malaysia kinda offsets how much I miss you.

Dear French press,
I hope that by the time I get back, you will forgive the sins that I have made, and readily allow me to drink from your fountain of gold.
We shall soon be reunited dear friend, and when we do, teary eyed and all, I will never want to part with you ever again.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s