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

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.

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

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

13, H, grate

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

like first name

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

autonomy of learning

all that is to say

i love it here

we need to be deconstructing our identities

i was tempted to lie about my name

division of reality is straying away from it