It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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

Picture

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

isaac

is this you as well

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

idk