"Put a blanket."
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

        13       |
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            H   |
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The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.


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

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

I am below everything.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

It Will Get Lighter

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

in a post. I want to be remembered

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46