ligature raze a slender sprig of displaced string sprung up on a step near the bottom of the stairs, its presence a question i had no answer for. not quite white. closer to the colour my insides must be by now. the length of it looped into a loose figure_eight. i meant to spend some time with this tiny tourist. to ask them how they got here and what they made of the place. but my mind drifted and darkened, as it often does. i thought i'd missed my chance. i was sure the thing had fled, unfettered by feckless feet or carried away by a curious insect. i only had to look a little closer. it's still around, slouching toward the shape of the most common clef seen on staff_paper. making music only my eyes can hear. 250706 what's it to you? who go blather from