Imogen: "Chetney, have you ever seen furniture come to life?"
Chetney: "Oh yes."
Imogen: "Oh, you have?"
Chetney: "Before my very eyes."
Imogen: "Really? Did it attack?"
Chetney: "The senses? Nightly. An onslaught of beauty."
Imogen: "Oh, I--"
Chetney: "Hour by hour. Chip by chip. Little nick by little nick, the word blood just working itself into the wood grain. Oh, it attacked all right. It left its mark here." *points at his own heart*
Imogen: "Has it ever attacked you physically?"
Chetney: "...I'm sorry?"













