said object

It sat once, center table at the cabin, old rifles and canning jars surrounding it, the simmery, summer night air pouring around its sunny disposition. We were weak and sold it to Astrid, the neighbor who wore pumpkin rouge. She had a party one evening, we all stumbled over. The lamp sat glumly on a side table until Astrid spilled some gin on it. A great spark rose from the lamp and bounded across the room, uncle Ross’s hair lit on fire, more gin came out he was doused. It was the end of an era.