We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.
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.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
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.lol
as in
much more tactility
magnetisation/form
I am below everything.
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
it is hopeful
so at the end
"Put a blanket."
propensity within someone