Open Letter To My Coffee Press

Dear Coffee Press,

I am sorry I was not home Saturday night to protect you from my drunk roommate who picked you up and threw you against the wall to prove some kind of point about cleanliness. Had I known this would be your fate I would have brought you with me to Albany. Unfortunately, I’m not psychic. Now I have to bury you, something I never ever wanted to think about.

We had some good times together, coffee press. Remember the first cup of joe you made for my Empire Strikes Back mug? Remember that time I accidentally forgot to clean you and you got that mold beard? Man, what crazy times. I’m glad we got to share so many memories.

We’ll be together again one day. Until then, try not to begrudge my drunk roommate. He threw the dish towels once too, and even though they survived that tantrum they’ve never really been the same.

Your pal,


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