Uncertainty; obfuscation; cacophony; anarchy; crowded, confused noise, quietly constricting all choice, shading the call of the image, the work of the character, colliding in the theatre that expands the voice that breaks into the collision, into the tumultuous fear, breaking the quiet, the uncalled noise, calling forth the hearer to break at the weakest sound. Among brokenness, the mere breath cries choice. The calling of the chosen; the word given. The moment played.

I am broken. I speak to break you. I speak you; I hear you: flailing in failure, I always hear you—you must choose.

The word is here. Even the stones cry out for it. I am not fit to give voice. But I give it. Is it even my voice? Voiced—the idea acts.

My voice expands the clearing—the submission of hearing—the sound breathed into word. The breath of clarity: the word constant; the expansiveness sounded that reverberates the call, calling forth the heard so that your choosing is the multifarious reverberation of brokenness resounded. And the word breathes with you. You cry out and my voice calls you. You are chosen. Come forth.