Working hard at the machine of good vibes.

The place is packed, with a winding screen-lit queue waiting for a table. So I peel off for the long trip home.

Much later, sunset and a pour-over single-origin brewed amidst sandalwood incense and Miles Davis blues.

Coffee: black.

Mood: equal parts the rustle of brown paper, coconut wind chimes and standing barefoot on cool grass at dusk.

For me, the best machine is no machine.