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I like it when tables had glass countertops, the table was telling a story and wanted everyone to know what it was, even through the lingerie placements. Those tables got hot and heated with food that would rival the best restaurants of the day.
It was the center of home with the couch and TV being not too far away. It was home, it felt that way. The first thing you see when you walk through the door when you enter and when you leave.
A memory, as vivid as any memory you have had and somehow always in the not too distant past.
