Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.plato
it is hopeful
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.
no longer writing in the third person
in a post. I want to be remembered
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.