scarred raze i watch the rain pelt what i planned on eating. she tells me her father's middle name is gone. it's been expunged from his memory. as if that scrap of lineage never belonged to him at all. thick white fibrous tissue has formed around the knuckle where those letters used to sit, covering a word no amount of digging will extract. an epithet cut adrift like flesh that's been lost without explanation. though a third of his history has been mislaid, he's happy. the middle of the story might have fled from him, but he can still see the beginning and the end. everything else is just living. 220430 what's it to you? who go blather from