things_you_hear raze a woman who can't stop coughing. the hushed hiss of her plastic spray bottle misting potted plants with tap water. the arrogant jeer of a blue_jay. a car clapping its callused hands. once. twice. three times. mineral on wood. flesh on bone. terminal teeth breaching cellulose. the fridge moaning in an almost human voice. the frenzied knocking of an unsupervised child selling girl guide cookies. a sixteen-second snippet of song played by someone who died before you were born. its name and author a fissure your mind will never fill. the nail-strafed strings of an untuned tenor banjo. and what you think is the sound of your father dying on the other side of an unassuming but durable door. it's nothing really. nothing at all. 240911 what's it to you? who go blather from