GRINDER: A Love Story - A Cinematic Cleaning Experience

INT. KITCHEN - DAWN
The first rays of sunlight pierce through venetian blinds, casting film noir shadows.
CLOSE-UP: A GRINDER, dusty and forgotten.
YOU (V.O.)
(weary)
Three weeks. Three weeks since I last cleaned you.
GRINDER sits silent, accusatory.

You approach slowly. Your hand trembles as it reaches for the hopper.
YOU
(whispered)
I'm sorry. I've been... busy.
EXTREME CLOSE-UP: Old coffee grounds, like memories, cling to the burrs.
You remove the hopper. Coffee dust fills the air like snow in a globe.

MONTAGE - CLEANING SEQUENCE
- Your hands, gentle now, brushing away the old grounds
- A vacuum cleaner appears, its hum like a lullaby
- The burrs, revealed in their metallic beauty
YOU (V.O.)
(tender)
Every grain tells a story. Ethiopian. Colombian.
That experimental natural process that went wrong.

You discover something wedged between the burrs.
INSERT: A single, perfectly preserved coffee bean.
YOU
(amazed)
The Geisha. From our anniversary.
The grinder seems to sigh.

You reassemble carefully, like putting together a broken heart.
THE GRINDER
(if it could speak)
...
YOU
Every Sunday. I promise. Every Sunday from now on.
You run a test grind. The sound is perfect - a purr of contentment.

CLOSE-UP: Fresh coffee beans cascade into the clean hopper.
YOU (V.O.)
(hopeful)
Relationships need maintenance. Coffee taught me that.
The grinder hums. Outside, birds sing.
Somewhere, a barista gets their wings.
FADE OUT.
THE END
POST-CREDITS SCENE:
You forget to clean it next Sunday.
GRINDER stares into camera like The Office.
[DIRECTED BY YOU]
[A MAINTENANCE 101 PRODUCTION]