It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

Style

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.

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me. The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

Better Lift

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life


Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03