furnace_lullabies raze my father said my name. not the one on my birth certificate, but the name he's called me for the last twenty-eight years. just once. distant and drowsy. logic says it was likely the only vent on this floor that works, breathing heat into a room too large to feel such a small sigh. groaning through a grin in recognition of its own impotence. i don't truck much with sense at this time of night. i know what i heard. if i listen long enough, he might come back and sing me to sleep. 231124 what's it to you? who go blather from