Plates pulled from the back-issue rack of Popular Horizons, the magazine Teddy Roosevelt founded in 1924 and still fifteen cents. They are ads for a world that kept the lights on. Pick one up. Move it. They were pinned in a hurry.
There is a second rack behind the first. You have to ask for it.
These invert the house laws until they worship themselves. They are still this world: quieter, no plastic, local print, fifteen cents, places have gods. They are that world with the volume broken.
Not canon. Not Issue #0. The edge.