slim_chance raze a mountain is just a hill with a hematoma. when the dust clears at the crest of this one, a woman stands and faces the only man she's ever trusted. she's made to understand he isn't flesh and blood. he's a spectral spouse whose wounds heal so much faster than her own. they're surrounded by other such spirits who re-enact the gunfights that brought an end to who and what they were. forever locked in necrotic combat. the man asks after their unborn son. the woman says he's made a noose of the umbilical cord and slipped it around his neck to spare himself the anguish of leaving the womb. she's considering a surgery that stands a slim chance of saving the child but will likely kill her. the man hands her a ring that belonged to his mother. not for luck, he explains, but something simpler and harder to hold onto. she works the battered band of hope onto her second smallest finger and walks away. he watches her leave. he feels something he can't give a name to. then he draws his revolver and joins the others. 250525 what's it to you? who go blather from