The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
...
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
it is hopeful
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
...
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 am below everything.
was it worth it
...
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged