Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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Rain, starting

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

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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

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

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

I am below everything.

It Will Get Lighter

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

        13       |
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            H   |
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a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression