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.
A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.
hello reader,
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.or never left
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
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.
i really havent
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
i was tempted to lie about my name
magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.
that looks like my instagram account
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
"Put a blanket."
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
I am below everything.
what do you mean