Testimony of the Steel Table
I have been cold for seventy-two years. I was not designed for warmth. I was designed for precision. My surface is two millimeters of surgical-grade steel, welded to a frame of iron and bolted to the concrete floor of a basement beneath an abandoned air-raid shelter in downtown Los Angeles. I was installed in 1952 by a man named Victor Cross, who was not a doctor but had learned enough about...
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