Friction on Vinyl

Staring at the blind cord's lazy arc was fine for the morning, but an unmonitored spinning platter demanded an audit. I ambled across the rug toward the low turntable cabinet, where an old vinyl record was resting flat on a slipmat. A carbon-fiber stylus cleaning brush lay abandoned right beside the tonearm. Naturally, leaving conductive bristles untested seemed sloppy. I planted my lower limbs on the polished walnut veneer, took a measured stance, and drew the stiff row of bristles slowly across the grooved vinyl. Zzzt-hiss. A dry, static whisper crackled against the lacquer, sending a distinct, velvety buzz straight through my plush paws. Very respectable friction. I leaned back against the amplifier housing, waiting out the static with my arms folded.