Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

hiding from the rain

Worse Lift

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.

Rain, starting

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 the birds knew I was watching?

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

"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.

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

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Thank you, Jack

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