Rain, starting

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.

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

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

IWGD

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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

currently

Better Lift

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

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

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