I had to cut this gorgeous paragraph from the novel I'm currently working on because it was too much of a digression from the focus. I loved it dearly though because the language just popped out and started playing. So I'm publishing it here for posterity and general interest.
The machine sparked alive, a hidden motor growling and grinding pressure somewhere in its bowels, working to reach a state of production according to the will of its master. He picked up the double shot puck and placed it into the portafilter, clipping it into the grinding cradle and pushing the execution button. The machine immediately poured forth fresh ground espresso and when it was full enough to suit his purpose, he killed the motor switch. He screwed the portafilter up into the brewing mechanism and pushed the double shot brew button and within thirty seconds he was sipping a steaming cup of wake up.