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.

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

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.

Worse Lift

"Put a blanket."

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.

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

i see a website

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

much more tactility

i understand

what do you think my name is

thank you