Fed by the large propane tank which had been hand painted to look like sand and beach grass, the emergency generator outside the beach-side mansion continued to hum. In the kitchen, the fridge purred softly, the microwave flashed the wrong time in vivid digital blue. Wallace moved along the expanse of exotic granite countertop. He tried several electrical outlets until he found one that was hot, then he plugged in the Keurig coffee machine. There was a metal tree on the counter which held twenty or so individual servings. Wallace picked it up, opened the fridge, and used the light to read the selections. He decided that making coffee at rich folk’s houses was more complicated than it needed to be.
Fed by the large propane He inserted the cup, pushed the button. While he waited, he stare
