isaac

wait what is that

and the fake qualifier

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

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The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

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i have read not even 1 book

the site i am dreaming

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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.

Worse Lift

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

send link

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

It Will Get Lighter

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

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

Style

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