coffee_table raze we were trying to trace the source of the sound that cut our day in half and let all the good shit bleed out through its backside when he noticed the table left to rot at the edge of someone's front lawn. oak limbs and chassis. a thick pane of glass for a face. no significant scars my eyes could unearth. it looked like a well-preserved antique. a little dusty, but beautiful. i don't know who gets rid of a thing like that. i don't know where we're going to put it, either. but it's ours now. 230520 what's it to you? who go blather from