13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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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.


"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
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.
and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

was it worth it

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Slug

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

It Will Get Lighter

...

this will be about a slug

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books