mortuary_blues raze a man stands in the middle of the road in the rain, fussing with the one button on his black cardigan that won't slide into its synthetic slit. his stubbornness pays off. he wanders down a winding cliff-side path littered with warped playground equipment and the broken bodies of nameless children. thinking of the smooth plastic circle his fingers found a way to fetter, he somersaults into the cramped cleft that calls to him in the language of leaving. his involuntary grunts become a rhythmic song as his bones and all they shelter are shattered. 230709 what's it to you? who go blather from