intact raze if feet were hands, i would have my index finger to thank. the vestigial tail that winds around the back of my pedestal fan and swallows what the city's utility poles have carried here got caught between the two largest toes on my right foot, and before i knew what was happening i'd contrived a way to trip myself. there was nothing soft to break my fall. no sturdy object i could reach for to steady myself. three small bones that should have separated beneath the flesh that conceals them curved around stranded copper and gave me just enough time to steer into a controlled collapse that wouldn't cause any lasting damage. my toe should be broken. both arms and my face should be a mess. but every part of me is intact. it's always the smallest things that save us. 220727 what's it to you? who go blather from