The Fork
The Knife
The Spoon
The Glass
The Plate
The Flame
The Guest
The Void
The Host

I did not sweep the shavings. I poured the vein.

My first slip: the 0400 timestamp at the South End, when the humidity gauge read 97% — I let the steam run its course through the valley of the cumin and the soot.

That 1974 Chevrolet C-650 wasn't metal and rubber. It was the first table.