Style

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

13, H, grate

"Put a blanket."

abrar?

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

sorry i am texting like a slav

Rain, starting

you cannot feed someone truth

plato

and the fake qualifier

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

fw

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class