There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I am below everything.
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
not so on: yvf(wthw)
in a post. I want to be remembered
...
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
was it worth it
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
it is hopeful