unsound raze i can feel warm water bulging beneath my feet. i stand on unsound steel to cross this roiling river. in a building that knows me better than i know myself, there's a room filled with cross-legged children. eyes closed. faces flush against the floor. a door behind a desk leads to another door. i don't dare open it for fear of what i might find on the other side. it's enough to hear the voices that carry through chinks in the alder's armour. they tell me everything i hope to hear but can't believe is true. 250610 what's it to you? who go blather from