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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

        13       |
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            H   |
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One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

It Will Get Lighter

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

in a post. I want to be remembered

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

yes

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

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

brb i will read and reply sincerely

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17