surfacing dis "That's a heck of a nasty bruise," I say from beneath him, peering over his shoulder to see the mass. He explains; Stray bits of cartilage, like blue-black tumors, are rising to the surface. They wish to work free of him entirely, and pass through his skin as a gorey eruption. So is it with me, I now think, and I wait for someone to ask me. "That's a heck of a nasty bruise," they'll offer. "It's my heart," I'll answer, "Surfacing. Soon it shall pass through my skin as a gorey eruption, and I will be free of it entirely." 010906 what's it to you? who go blather from