aperture raze he ties a length of string around his eyes to falsify ethnicity. it isn't funny. the kids in the camper van laugh without understanding why. the woman who's taken him in carries the part of his car that was killed by overuse under one arm. it resembles an old microwave. a white square with clipped wings. two men trip her from behind. they watch her hit the snow-capped sidewalk. they laugh and walk the other way. the limp that's been with her all her life is no worse in the aftermath. behind an aperture cut into the side of a bald brick building, a mechanic she's known for years stands and smirks. he doesn't buy her story about needing to fix this broken thing for a new friend. "when have i ever lied to you or anyone else?" she asks him. the answer is never. and he knows it. he tells her to come back later. the repairs will be done today. 230902 what's it to you? who go blather from