Usher III (With Apologies To Ray Bradbury)

“The leather chair is the centerpiece of my collection, my pride and joy, Mr. Garrett. Won’t you have a seat?”

The man — the busybody, the obstacle — sat down perfunctorily, and attempted to resume his diatribe. “Now then, Mr. Stendahl, you simply—”

“Don’t you like it?”

“What, The chair? It’s fine, fine. Please do let’s get to the—”

“The finest leather. Made special by a gentleman I know. The symbol there in the middle of the headrest? That’s not pyrography, but rather a tattoo.”

“So, he tattooed the cow, and then—”

“My dear Mr. Garrett, who said anything about a cow?”

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