say_cheese raze i've been sleepwalking with the enemy again. they try to trace the source of the sound that's driving them mad. it's just the studs biting into my boots. the leader of the pack lights up when i tell him i love the hardwood floors in his house. he'll spend hours with one ear fixed to the floor, straining to hear snippets of song sung by garrulous ghosts. every night there's a different kind of morse code coming through. i ask if he's decoded the message. not yet, he says. across the way, a southern belle greets me and invites me into her humble home. she says she's pleased to meet a british soldier. she tells me i'm the spitting image of my father. i play the part, though my attempt at an accent is off the mark. she makes me breakfast while we both pretend to be something we're not. i watch her prod a piece of cheese above a clutch of eggs scrambling in a skillet. the cracks in the curd form a face. i smile into its eyes before the heat that's going to make me whole melts them down to nothing. 260207 what's it to you? who go blather from